Batman: Thru Broken Glass
by jjhatter
Summary: When an attempt to stop Jervis Tetch, a.k.a. Mad Hatter, goes awry, Batman finds himself transported to Wonderland. But not all is as it seems...and it isn't paint making the roses red... R&R, please! UPDATED; RATING CHANGED.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! To all those who are revisiting this story, I have FINALLY managed to correct all the grammatical errors that run amok throughout this tale. I shall be putting up the revised chapters a few at a time, so, if you find a chapter that doesn't look exactly like it did before, that is the reason. I think I'll get the rating and disclaimers over with and start right away...

Rating: M (Rating changed due to violence and morbidity, including death and disturbing scenarios and imagery)

Disclaimer: The only character I own is the March Hare character seen in the "Real World" chapters. His origins and character will be explored further in future Batman fanfics. Otherwise, I OWN NOTHING. _NOTHING!_ Also, seeing as I have put the "soundtrack" to this story up on my profile, I have removed _Looking-Glass_ by Hypnogaja's lyrics from this chapter and the epilogue. I do not own it, nor any of the songs or pieces of music on said soundtrack, and have listed their respective owners and sources beside them on the list.

Notes: This story is dedicated to Gareth Paul Barsby, whose YouTube video _Batman: Dark Wonderland_ inspired this fic's creation. I hope the author enjoys it.

Let's "start at the beginning, and, when [we] get to the end...stop!"

**Chapter I: Won't You Join the Dance?**

On May 3rd, at 1:00 a.m., Jervis Tetch, alias Mad Hatter, and Deever and Dumfree Tweed, aliases Tweedledee and Tweedledum, escaped from Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

At 5:00 p.m., Tim Drake disappeared.

The next day, May 4th, at 6:00 p.m., the following note was delivered to the Drake family.

_ Your son has volunteered to play Dormouse at our Tea Party. Unless you want him to lose his head, I recommend you do one of the following: A.) deliver exactly 13 thousand dollars cash to the address on the envelope, or B.) INFORM BATMAN. Waiting impatiently, Mad Hatter._

Leave it to Jervis Tetch to send a semi-polite threat.

Needless to say, the second option was chosen. Of course, Batman already knew about the situation – he'd been searching leads the moment it was reported Tim Drake was missing.

Why wouldn't he? Tim was, after all, his current ward…and the newest Robin, the Boy Wonder, the "Watson" to Bruce's "Holmes."

(Bruce Wayne…Batman's alter ego: billionaire playboy and philanthropist by day, Caped Crusader against crime by night.)

In less time than it takes for a game of Speed to end, the Batmobile was tearing through the streets of Gotham as night fell. The crescent moon cast a thin, eerie glow on the pavement.

The address led Batman to an abandoned library.

_Just the Wonderland Gang's style…_

He would need to be cautious…they were expecting him.

At first, though, all seemed to go well…the Tweedles were nowhere to be seen. The Hatter was nowhere to be found.

That left only the Hare…the only member who had not been captured, and doubtlessly the one who had helped to free Tetch and the Tweeds. The victim of a cruel experiment by the mad scientist Dr. Milo, the Hare was part human, part brown hare, able to speak, react, and communicate like a human, but with the overall appearance and relative speed and strength to a hare.

While this may sound ridiculous at first, it actually made the March Hare quite deadly.

Batman stalked down the bookcases…every fiber primed for flight or fight. The library shelves were empty…the whole place smelled like dust and mildew. The windows were broken or dirty, sending only the scantest light into the room. Night vision lenses installed in the cowl of the Batsuit quickly fixed this, and made movement and stealth much more easy.

There was only one other door in the library…up a flight of stairs, beyond the last bookcase, fiction M-Z…the old manager's office.

_This is all too easy…_

The door was unlocked.

_Much too easy…_

The Tweedles – each dressed in a grey derby hat with a black band, a purple waistcoat, and a green shirt and trousers – stood beside a chair, and in that chair sat Tim Drake…hopefully unconscious. The Tweed twins broke into gruesome grins.

"Allo, Bats," said Dumfree, in that phony cockney accent both he and his twin used when in costume.

"Come fer the boy, 'ave ye?" sneered Deever.

Without a word, Batman whipped out a single bat-o-rang.

"Oy!" snapped Dum. "No need fer that!"

"Nohow," agreed Dee. "Just come 'ere and get 'im! We won't put up no fight whatsoever."

"Won't you?" growled Batman, in a spine-tingling voice that would strike fear into any crook. He threw the bat-o-rang (impact variety – made to stun a foe with its heavy, blunt-edged form when thrown), and as it arced around, both of the Tweed twins crumpled to the ground.

_Easier still…_

He took a few steps toward Tim…

He bent down, and placed two fingers to his throat.

No pulse…

Wait a second! _This wasn't flesh!_

THWACK!

Something thick and heavy collided with the skull beneath the cowl. Stunned and disoriented, Batman collapsed.

"Batman!" called a voice.

_Tim…!_

_ "Pick him up,"_ came a disturbed, British accented voice…this time, the accent was genuine.

Two arms wrapped under the armpits of Batman and lifted him up, each in red sleeves…

And ending in fur-covered hands…more like paws than actual hands…a wooden mallet in one of said hands…

_March Hare…_

Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter, the source of the up-down voice, sneered, revealing his enlarged front teeth. His hazel eyes glittered under the brim of his pine green top hat with the black ribbon hatband, a 10/6 card stuck in the brim. His gray gloved hands were stuck in the pockets of his dark brown waistcoat. About his neck was a red bow tie with black polka-dots, and underneath his coat he wore a black-&-red checkered vest. His bottom half was clad in black shoes with spats and brown trousers, along with red-&-black striped socks.

"'It Is So KiNd Of YoU tO cOmE…aNd YoU aRe VeRy NiCe!'" quoted Tetch, his already dark-sounding voice taking on a strange, up-down melody as he quoted a poem of his passion. "Normally, I would ask you to join me for some tea…but, you ARE fifteen seconds late, so I'll just _**cut**_ to the chase…"

Having said this, the Hatter snapped his fingers. A thick, muscular leg connected with a nerve point in Batman's back. He groaned and fell to his knees. The Hare, dressed in his red waistcoat, orange bow tie, and brown shirt and vest, smirked as he hopped up to the Hatter's side. He took up a hatbox and handed it to Tetch.

"Stop!" shouted Tim/Robin. "I swear, when I get out of this, I'll…!"

"Shut your trap," growled the March Hare in that oddly young voice of his, shoving a handkerchief into Tim's mouth like a gag. The Hatter opened the box and took out a tall, gray stovepipe hat with a black hatband. With a smile, he pulled the card out of his hat and placed it into the hatband…

_One of his hypno-chips…_

"Let me show you my latest design...'iT's My OwN iNvEnTiOn...'"whispered Tetch.

The pain was gone, but before Bruce could react, the hat was shoved over the pointed "ears" of his mask, and the wiring of the chip-card went to work.

Everything seemed to swirl out of proportion…

The sound of Tim's muffled protests and the Hatter's twisted laughter seemed to become more and more distant…

Then came blackness…the feeling of vertigo…a sensation like falling…

And total, deathly silence…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II: Follow Me**

Batman groaned as he opened his eyes.

He groaned even louder when he saw his surroundings.

He was inside a deep, dank mine shaft. Fungus and mold covered the walls. The ceiling and walls were covered in dust, and even blood in some spots. Pale orange lights were the sole illumination of the mine, hanging from the wooden ceiling, and large yellowed roots poked out of the floor, their gnarled edges shaped like thin claws. Everything was curved and off-center…he wondered if he had ever stopped falling at all.

He reached up…

The hat was gone.

_Blast…the Hatter's got me in one of his Dream Worlds…_

"Took you long enough."

Batman turned, to look over at the source of the voice…

Before him stood a large, semi-humanoid, white rabbit with short fur. The creature was gaunt and shriveled, almost corpse-like in its thinness, and seemed to twitch incessantly. It wore black fingerless gloves, an old red waistcoat, and a crumpled black piper hat with a red band. The Rabbit's right eye was swollen shut, all purple and mucous-lined, while its left eye was huge, pink, and glaring. Two large, axe-blade shaped teeth stuck out from its mouth. It frowned, crossing its twig-like arms and tapping one large foot impatiently.

It was far more macabre than what John Tenniel had illustrated, but the identity of the apparition was clear: The White Rabbit of Wonderland.

"Please, don't dawdle, Mr. Wayne" the White Rabbit said. "We're very late, indeed!"

No sooner had the words come out of the rabbit's mouth then it took off, bounding away at a phenomenal speed.

For a second, Batman just watched it go.

_Wayne…it knows me._

_ If it knows me…_

_ No, the Hatter can't know!_

_ Well…I guess there's only one way to find out. Follow the White Rabbit._

Batman stood up and dashed after the rabbit in the waistcoat. The rabbit turned a corner, and as he turned the same one, he glimpsed it turn another, its coat and shadow the only clue to its location.

After three more turns, he lost it.

But, thankfully, even White Rabbits leave footprints.

It was difficult to see them in the dim light, but the Dark Knight's utility belt was thankfully equipped with a flashlight.

_Funny…Tetch still gave me full access to my tools._

_ Something tells me that isn't really a good thing._

He was right, of course.

As he turned a seventh corner – there were so many twists and turns in the mine – he ran into a pair of…

Playing cards.

Yes, playing cards.

Two Aces of Clubs, to be more precise, with bloodshot, beady eyes, chipped, yellowed teeth, ham-like faces, and stuffed toy -esque limbs. They wore black hoods, chain mail on their arms and legs, thick leather gloves and boots…and each carried a long pole arm, topped with a spiked ball, like a lengthened mace.

The Card Guards had cornered a small, plump, bearded man, who had a pipe in his mouth and wore a tan jumpsuit. He was cowered against the wall, shivering like a baby. However, as soon as the cards spotted the man in the bat-suit, they forgot the man and ran at him, lunging out with their pole arms and yelling incoherent words at the top of their lungs.

Batman dodged as a pole arm whistled past one of the ears of his cowl, and grabbed it away, wrenching it out of the Card Guard's grasp and throwing it to the floor. The Guard howled with pain from its torqued arm and fell to the floor…

With a snarl, the other Guard struck it with its own pole arm. It shuddered, and then lay still.

Dead.

_They attack the weak in their group. I'll remember that._

With no thought to the fallen Guard, Batman struck out with his stolen weapon and struck the remaining soldier down…

And it did not get up.

He stared for a second.

_I…I killed it…_

He'd never killed anything in the "Real World" before. He had decided not to years ago.

Yet here, at his feet, lay a dead soldier.

A playing card soldier, of course…but it was still dead.

He shook it off.

_Just a mirage. A realistic mirage. Tetch knows about these things…_

_ It's all an illusion._

_ And you can't REALLY kill a dream._

_ Can you…?_

"Bravo!" said the little man, clapping his hands. His voice, a high, thin tenor, would have seemed comical under different circumstances. "You certainly can deal with the Cards! Are you the savior Rabbit told us about?"

Batman did not answer.

_Savior?_

"…You don't talk much, do you?"

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"I have no name, but my fellow Gnomes call me the Gnome Elder. This is the Village and Mine of the Doomed."

"Why do you call it that?'

In response, the Gnome Elder pointed at the dead Cards.

"We work, just so we can die, or those things do the killing for us."

"A concentration camp."

"Precisely."

"You said you were the elder?"

"Aye."

"Then you are wise?"

"No. Wisdom is not wasted in a slug heap like this. If I were wise, would I cower like a rat? I am not wise…just old."

_…Right._

_ Just like something out of Wonderland._

_ Of course._

"Can you tell me where the White Rabbit went?"

"Rabbit? Of course, Mr. Wayne. He went-"

The Gnome Elder was interrupted by a gloved hand on his neck.

_"How do you know my name?"_

"I- I don't know how I know! I just know! You know?"

_No._

"L-l-look, Rabbit went that way…"

The Gnome Elder pointed down the mine shaft and then made a right-curving motion with his hand.

"…And is headed for the hole in the wall. That's the only way out. But you won't get out without a Getting-Small Potion."

"Where do I find one?"

"I can m-make you one. The Guards keep a stash of potion-making supplies in their quarters…that way…"

He curved his hand to the left.

"Put me down and I'll write you up a list."

"Just tell me."

"You'll rem…remember?"

"I have a good memory."

"A purple mushroom cap, seven of poppy seeds, three sugar cubes, and Poison Pepper. Bring these to me, along with a bottle and a cup of water…n-no, make that…two cups. I could use a drink…"

"Stay here."

Here the Dark Knight dropped the Gnome Elder and stalked off.

"Some 'Savior…'" he heard the old dwarf mutter.

_Welcome to Wonderland, Bats._


	3. Chapter 3

Notes: My thanks to Niphuria, whose commentary on this chapter during its writing is very much appreciated. To you, I say, I didn't change it, really. A few slight changes (VERY slight), but nothing major. Thank you. Now...

**Chapter III: Tea Time**

Six o'clock.

Time for tea.

The March Hare shuddered in his restraints as, like they always did, the glass doors to the dining room-turned-laboratory swung open.

_Clip, clap, clip, clap._

The Mad Hatter entered the room.

March could still remember him as he had been: fair skinned, short, with a beaky nose and soft, gentle brown eyes that glittered with eccentricity, always splendidly dressed in an olive-colored waistcoat, plaid shirt, polka-dotted tie and black top hat with a purple band, the tag stuck in it, perched upon his blonde haired head...a fun-loving, albeit odd even by Wonderland standards, fellow, and a dear friend.

All that changed when he and Father Time patched up their quarrel. The Hatter had become obsessed - madly, twistedly obsessed - with Time's passing, and was determined to tame him. From that moment on, not even the White Rabbit's punctuality issuses matched up to the Hatter's clockwork-set mind.

And, oh! How the years had changed him! Hatter's skin was now as green as his long-gone waistcoat had been. His eyes were cold and steely gray...he never blinked. His hair was greasy, stringy and balding. About his now tall and gangly frame was a tattered straitjacket, his thin hands now wearing rubber gloves. His old hat had been traded out in favor of a stovepipe hat with black-&-white chessboard pattern, decorated in the signs of the zodiac. He was hunched over most of the time, and this made the great, rusty gear that stuck out of his back even more noticeable.

He had changed himself for the worse.

The milliner-turned-mad scientist looked around, checking if the clocks on his walls were functioning properly. Satsified, he twirled his walking cane, topped with pink ornament of a teapot, between his slender fingers. He strode over to the Dormouse's table...

Ah, Dormy! Not even HE had escaped the Hatter's descent into lunacy. He lay upon the operating table, a clamp on his stomach keeping him from trying to escape...although the Hatter's medicines kept him so groggy and sickeningly sedated, the Hare often wondered if he even realized his own situtation. His legs and tail had been replaced with a copper wire and a pair of bulky, metal limbs.

March was no better off: he was strapped to a great metal rack, every ten minutes being dunked into a vat of black coffee, which was heated to near-boiling point every half-hour, one arm bent in a most uncomfortable position, the other replaced with an immense mechanical one. His right leg had been broken, his left leg - like his arm - replaced with a large mechanical limb. A hook had been embedded in his chest, and pulled his bottom lip down, making the pronunciation of certain letters impossible.  
As they had once been Hatter's best friends, he had given them the "honor" of making them his most treasured experiments: soon-to-be super-soldiers.

The Hatter paused with a sadistic smirk before pressing a button under the table. An electrified needle popped up and jabbed at Dormy's copper tail. The jolt awoke the rodent, who twitched and squeaked before looking up at the Mad Hatter with bland, bloodshot eyes.

"O-Oh. Hello, Hatter. Is it tea time already?"

The Hatter nodded slightly.

"Mmm...all right...two lumps, then..." mumbled the dormouse, and instantly fell back to sleep.  
The Hatter smirked again and pulled a lever next to the table. A hole opened up in the center of the laboratory. Out of it rose a small table, with a single chair, a single teapot, and a single teacup and saucer on it. The Hatter seated himself at the table, placing the cane beside him, and poured not tea, but a mixture of liquid mercury and molten sugar into his cup. (In his state of mind, the madman saw no difference.)

As the Hatter took a sip, March felt he could stand it no longer.

"H-Hatter?" he peeped.

The Hatter glanced at the Hare with his cruel, deadly eyes.

"Hatter…cut ne down…'lease…"

The Hatter took another sip.

"'L-l-lease, Hatter…it hurts…'lease, ny thriend…"

The Hatter now turned his gaze fully upon the pitiful March Hare. His eyes held no sign of emotion whatsoever.

"Hatter…'lease…I'n 'egging you…"

The Mad Hatter rose, grabbing his cane, and stalked over to the Hare. His voice, once bouncy and exuberant, almost musical, was now a thin, dark, raspy…noise.

"My other experiments," he rasped. "Do not complain. DORMY doesn't complain. THE TWEEDLES didn't complain. I'm making perfection, Marchy. PERFECTION. When the Queen and I are through, all of Wonderland will be PERFECT."

There was a pause.

"So, why do you complain, Marchy? Why do you despise perfection?"

"Hatter…this isn't you…why are you doing this?"

The Hatter sneered. His large teeth were not pearly, but pale, a sort of gray timberwolf color.

"Why is it," he pondered. "That you have such big ears, yet never listen?"

Then – BRACK, BRACK, BRACK – the teapot-topped cane began to strike mercilessly at the March Hare, who stifled tears as the Hatter's vicious beating continued. The maniac's grunts and snarls rapidly changed into giggles and hyperactive gasps.

"Doctor 'Atter?"

The Hatter growled and immediately ceased his savagery. The pink ornament was stained with blood, and the Hare's already scarred and tortured form now bore several cuts and bruises.

"Ooh…keep down that racket…" mumbled the Dormouse.

Tweedledee – the tallest of the Tweedles – had entered the room. He and his brother looked the same as they always had, in their propeller beanies and peppermint striped jumpsuits…save for the strange, plastic-esque quality to their skin and the bloodstains on their clothes. The Hatter had brainwashed them and made them his chief assistants in his vast mansion, now a great labyrinth of labs. Whatever else he had done…March had no clue.

"WHAT?" snapped the Hatter, using a grimy blue handkerchief to clean off his cane.

"Uh…'er Majesty wants to see ye, sir. She's on the viewscreen in th' tower now."

The Hatter sighed, disappointed at the interruption.

"Inform the Queen of Hearts I'm on my way up," he said, and walked past Tweedledee, who nodded, and out the door.

CLICK. It locked.

Only then did March allow himself to cry. His sobs were drowned out by the tick-tocking of a hundred clocks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV: Here We All Are Crazy**

_Guards' quarters…guards' quarters…I should have asked for more directions…_

The Mines of the gnome concentration camp seemed to have no end. No doors…no elevators…just deep tunnels.

He stopped.

_The Card Guards aren't even in this area…there's no sign of activity here. It's just an empty shaft._

_ I must have taken a wrong turn._

_ Not surprising._

_ Well, we just go right back and try again. The sooner we get out of this madhouse, the better…who knows what's going on with Robin…_

Batman had scarcely turned around when something swooped low over his head and let out a bloodcurdling scream. He ducked, but an ear from his cowl was lost. He dodged to the right as another…something came screaming at him from behind. He looked up.

A strange pair of creatures floated above him. They wore long, black, monk-like robes, out of the sleeves of which stuck two bony, gnarled, bloodstained arms with fingernails like claws. They had no neck, nor, it seemed, any legs, but directly above their shoulders floated a scarlet, fang-toothed skull.

One of the banshees hissed and spat the ear out of its mouth.

_"BOO-jum! Boo-JUM!"_ they wailed, and swooped again.

With all the speed and reflexes of a cat, Batman sidestepped the beasts, and whipped out a bat-o-rang. He threw the blade at the chest area of one of the creatures…

…And it went right on through, as if nothing was there.

_"Boo-JUM! BOO-jum!"_

_ Time to run._

And run he did, the banshees snapping and shrieking behind him, reaching with their thin fingers for his neck…

_"BOO-JUM! BOO-JUM! BOO-__**AIEEEEEGH!**__"_

__The scream emitted this time from the things was one of pain. Batman turned just in time to see a flash of gold, a splash of red, and a puff of ash.

The banshees had vanished. On the ground, directly below where they had once floated, sat a large, emaciated, gaunt cat. Its short fur was gray-brown and decorated with arcane designs and tattoos. On one ear it wore a silver hoop earring. Its eyes glowed yellow, and its silvery claws were covered in what looked like blood and soot. Its long tail whipped about behind it.

The cat's mouth was pulled up into an eerie smile, which revealed every one of its long, pointed, yellowing teeth.

Like the rabbit before it, the creature looked nothing like Tenniel's illustrations, but the identity of this new character was clear: The Cheshire Cat.

The cat said nothing for a while. It simply stared at Batman, licking the back of a paw to clean its claws of the black-and-red dust. It seemed to be studying him, like a scientist examining a particularly unpromising specimen.

"You should say 'thank you,'" the cat purred, in a voice like a silk ribbon with a husky quality.

Batman made no reply.

"Or not," sighed the Cheshire Cat. "Boojums have terrible manners as well: they'll eat ANYTHING. Please, call for me next time they're around, or become a meal. The claw, after all, is quicker than the utility belt."

Here the cat's eyes narrowed and it licked its lips. Its tongue was purple and thin.

"Come to think of it, I might join them…I've always enjoyed bats at breakfast…"

"I'm not edible."

"Oh, so you _do_ talk! How dear!" Cheshire tauntingly cooed, and sidled up, rubbing himself against Batman's legs.

"So…you're Rabbit's savior, hm? Bruce, isn't it?"

The Dark Knight kicked the cat away slightly. The cat hissed, irritated by the action.

"How do you know my name? How does _everything_ here know?"

"Now, now, let's not be difficult, Bruce: I can't really say. Answers aren't my style. That's where Rabbit comes in. Besides which, I think you REALLY mean to ask if Tetch knows or not. If so, please, say what you mean!"

"How…?"

"Questions, questions, too many questions! If you're such a good detective, then answer them yourself! While you're at it, why is a raven like a writing desk?"

No response.

"I see, Mr. Wayne, that you and I will be doing a great deal of talking. Well, we shall have to continue our chat later: I suspect you're trying to find the ingredients to the Gnome Elder's Getting-Small Potion?"

"…Yes."

"I'll bring you to the Guards' quarters; knowing where one is going if much more preferable to being lost, wouldn't you agree? Come along, Bruce. Rabbit waits!"

The cat began to walk away.

"Illusion or not, how do I know that I can I trust you?"

Cheshire smirked.

"That's the best part: you don't! But, when the path is problematical, one must consider a leap of faith. Follow me, Bruce."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V: Till the Queen Screams**

Anyone who claimed that the Mad Hatter was unfeeling spoke a lie.

He could feel: pain, loss, rage, satisfaction, joy, pride, triumph…and fear.

Of course, very few things scared the Hatter.

One of which was on the viewscreen now: a pair of bright, blood red eyes.

The Queen of Hearts was not only the most terrible and powerful force in all of Wonderland, but also the most mysterious and reclusive. The Queen was always found in the Heart Castle, and never left it. With the exception of her card armies and her…_pet_…no one had ever gone into the castle and come out again.

Not in one piece, anyway.

Hatter didn't mind this: if the Queen's voice and eyes were so terrifying, he had no wish to be near the mad monarch. Not without his soldiers, at any rate.

"You summoned me, My Queen?" Hatter intoned in an oily voice, sweeping his hat off of his head and bowing until his long nose nearly touched the floor.

**"LOWER."**

Hatter winced at the rocky, commanding voice of the Queen. He replaced his hat on his head and got on his hands and knees, his spindly body prostrating in a rather pathetic position.

_**"LOWER."**_

"I'm on the floor as it is…"

_**"LOWER!"**_

Hatter sighed softly and lay on the ground in a push-up position.

**"Better. RISE."**

The Hatter eagerly got to his feet.

"What is your command, Majesty?"

**"There is an intruder in Wonderland. An outsider."**

The Hatter's eyes widened.

"The Resistance's savior, I presume?"

**"They probably think so, the pitiful fools. But we've been there before, haven't we?"**

The Mad Hatter scowled under the protective shadow of his hat brim. He could hear the sadistic smile in the Queen's voice.

"Yes. We have."

**"You sound upset, Hatter," **the Queen practically purred. **"Could old memories be trying for your head again?"**

"No, Your Majesty."

**"Excellent. It would be a shame for you to lose your head three times over."**

The Queen's voice held no sincerity in these statements. The Mad Hatter – feeling his short temper rise – chose to change the subject; losing his temper would inevitably lead to the loss of his cranium.

"No offense, Majesty, but are you…CERTAIN of this?"

_**"YOU DARE TO QUESTION ME?"**_

Hatter flinched.

_Bad idea…_

"No," he said, as smoothly as he could, "but I am curious, Your Royal Murderess, how you knew before I."

**"Look outside."**

So the Hatter did.

His cold, gray eyes widened farther than even he thought they ever could.

"Is that…the…"

**"Sun? Why, yes. How observant my manic minister is."**

Hatter smiled slightly.

_The Time has come._

"What name am I to search for, Majesty?"

**"He calls himself Batman, but his real name is Bruce Wayne."**

"'Batman?'"

**"Yes; apparently he dresses in a bat costume. Crazy, I know!"**

The crazed, twisted laughter of the Queen of Hearts rocked the tower chambers.

"What are my instructions, precisely, My Liege?"

**"BREAK HIM DOWN. Torture him, bend him to your will, if not mine, drive him as insane as this world…do as you like, I care not! In the end, kill him, and send his head to me in a box. Not necessarily in that order."**

"Your wish, My Queen, is my every command."

**"Spare me the clichés, Hatter. Just destroy Wayne, or I'll be preparing a nice, sharp guillotine for your neck."**

The eyes disappeared.

_ Wayne…doesn't ring any bells. But Batman…_

The Mad Hatter giggled madly.

_Twinkle, twinkle, little bat…how I wonder what you're at…_

"Tweedles!"

Tweedledee and Tweedledum, fast as clockwork, entered the room, each carrying a set of electric prongs. They never went far from the Hatter's side, unless otherwise instructed. They had probably been "testing" the other experiments down the hall.

"Aye, doctor?" they chorused.

"How is Prisoner 666? Still under lock and key?"

"Aye, doctor," said Tweedledum. "'E ain't goin' nowhere, nohow."

"Contrariwise, if he could, he would, and if he would he'd be gone, but as he can't he ain't, and-"

"Shut your mouth, Dee, or I'll rip your tongue out at the seam."

"Sorry, doctor."

"Both of you stop work for a few minutes. Summon the Centipede, and make sure we have some growth serum in our cupboards; I want to talk to the beasty eye-to-eye."

"Aye."

"Aye what?"

"Aye…doctor?"

"Fine. Go."

The Tweedles did. After a short while of standing in the chamber…thinking…the Hatter left himself. He went to elevator, and pressed the button for floor 25.

The symphony of moans and cries and high-pitched laughter that echoed through the laboratories was music in the Mad Hatter's ears. He looked at none of the prisoners/experiments in the cells he passed, but simply walked on, pulling a pen and a piece of sticky-paper from his pockets, writing as he walked.

Hatter had no desire for the Queen to forever rule over Wonderland…her tyranny was admirable, but her murderous mannerisms were too imperfect and crude for his taste. (That's what he told himself, anyways.) Once March and Dormy were finished, he'd be able to forge and army more powerful than anything the Queen of Hearts would ever be able to conjure up. Once the Queen herself was without a head, he would quickly seize control of Wonderland, giving him an entire world to toy with and twist to his genius vision.

However, any threat to the Queen was an obvious threat to him and his schemes. Nothing would stand in his way…and nothing could.

Hatter slapped the paper onto the door of cell 999. Empty, for now.

The notice read, _"Reserved for Mr. Bruce Wayne."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI: Out of the Fire**

Back in the Village of the Doomed, Batman waited behind a wall.

The door to the Guards' quarters was just around the corner. A pair of Spades, each wielding an axe with a jagged, curved blade, waited outside the door, standing guard for the Guards.

_The only way to get past them, it seems, is a fight…_

_ I'd rather do as little killing here as possible. This dream is strangely real, even for one of Tetch's machinations._

"All suits," purred the voice of the Cheshire Cat in his ear, "are dolts. It's best not to play with them, unless you're ready to _deal_."

"I need to get in to get the ingredients for the potion."

"Well, trust me when I tell you this: the direct approach is not the way to go. Take it quietly, Batman."

And the cat was gone.

_Take it quietly…_

_ A distraction. Of course._

Slyly, the Caped Crusader slid a smoke pellet into his hand.

_Choke on this._

He tossed the pellet at the Card Guards. The dimwitted soldiers looked at it, confusedly, then coughed and spluttered as the smoke spewed and got into their paper-thin lungs.

They fell, unconscious.

_No killing needed._

He turned and approached the door…

It swung open. A Heart – holding a rod with a buzzsaw at the end – and two gun-toting Diamonds appeared. Behind them, another Spade and three Clubs could be seen.

Taking no notice of their fallen comrades, the Cards all let out a roar of anger and rushed forward. A well-thrown bat-o-rang knocked the guns out of the Diamonds' hands, and the weaponless creatures were felled by the Spade, their heads rolling onto the floor.

The Heart lunged, his spinning buzzsaw slicing through the air. Batman dodged, and tried pulling the weapon out of the Guards' grip. The Heart was stronger than the Clubs from earlier, however, and only growled as the tug-of-war went on.

The three Clubs shuffled up, shrieking in the incoherent language of the Cards, and swung their spiked-clubbed-poles at Batman…tripping over each other in the process, and knocking the Heart to the ground. Outraged, the Heart sliced a Six of Clubs in half, leaving the remaining two – a Seven and a Ten – to Batman.

The Dark Knight leapt away as the Clubs aimed a blow at his collar bone. He plucked a small, explosive ball from his utility belt and flung it at the Heart, who shrieked as the tiny grenade obliterated his hands. The clubs struck at the Heart, killing it in seconds.

A pair of bat-o-rangs took care of them soon after.

Batman looked down at both the corpses and the unconscious.

_ These Cards won't sleep forever, and the other Guards are bound to come by at some point. Let's take care of this quickly…_

He entered the Guards' quarters, which held a bar (unoccupied, thankfully), two tables with chairs, and several cabinets.

One was labeled "Potion Ingredients."

_Well, Cheshire wasn't lying when he called the Cards dolts._

Heading to the cabinet, he found all he needed: the poppy seeds, the sugar cubes, purple mushrooms (he twisted off the cap of one), and a jar of black and yellow powder labeled "Poison Pepper." From another cabinet he took a glass bottle, and from the bar he took a flask of water and a measuring cup.

He took all these, placing them in a bag he had found behind the bar, and quickly left the Guards' quarters.

Hearing a familiar babbling and spotting shadows on the walls, approaching the area, he took off at a run.

Seconds after, he heard a shout of anger and surprise, and then bullets began to fly.

_Diamonds. They have Diamonds. Hopefully nothing else…_

He dropped, spinning on his hands and kicking his legs out.

Three Diamonds – all Aces – were behind him, but his kick knocked one out, and the other two fell like dominoes as it crashed into them.

Leaving a smoke pellet for them as a going-away gift, he took off again, counting off in his mind the turns until he reached the spot where he met the Gnome Elder.

He found the spot again soon enough. The Elder and the Cheshire Cat stood side by side, waiting.

"High time," grumbled the elder, taking the bag. "I nearly thought you'd been caught."

"He was," purred Cheshire, not bothering to explain exactly how he knew this. "We should hurry."

Batman wordlessly watched as the Elder first took a drink of water from the flask and then measured exactly one cup before pouring it into the bottle. He crushed the poppy seeds in his meaty hands, and then dropped them into the water, before adding the mushroom cap.

"Hold your breath," he said, before carefully tipping the Poison Pepper into the mix.

The water began to boil, as if the heat from the peppercorns was enough to cause the reaction.

Then, finally, the Elder added the sugar cubes, which quickly dissolved. He put a cork into the opening and then shook it until the mixture ceased boiling. Then he handed it to Batman.

"Don't drink this until you reach the exit," he instructed. "The effects are nearly instantaneous. And don't take it with alcohol, or the poison in the pepper will overtake the other solutes and shrivel your heart into a walnut."

"The Hole in the Wall is this way," Cheshire said, and vanished in a swirl of golden mist before reappearing at the end of the passage.

"Is that the way out?"

"Only from the mine."

Batman sighed.

"Take me there. If following the Rabbit is the way out, I'm taking it."

Cheshire raised an eyebrow and then promptly vanished.

"Take care," warned the Elder. "The Queen knows you're here."

"The Queen?"

"The Queen of Hearts. She rules this world with an iron…well, she doesn't have _fists…_anyway, she probably knew before any of us you had arrived. Almost nothing in Wonderland escapes her sight, and what does she doesn't know about."

_Obviously._

"I'll be careful."

_As careful as I can be in this psycho ward…_

Batman went down the passage and turned the direction the Gnome Elder had given before.

At the end of the new shaft he saw Cheshire…and a series of vents, spewing steam fifty feet into the air.

"Ride the thermal drafts like a gyrfalcon," Cheshire hissed, and swirled away.

_He's got to be kidding…_

_ Well, what's there to lose? It's all a construct, anyway…_

He jumped onto a vent, and was thrown sky-high up into another chamber. He hit the floor hard, landing on his chest.

All around him, gnomes dressed in drab rags of gray and tan were toting carts and hammering pick-axes. Card Guards prodded them with their weapons, shouting nonsense all the while. Slipping under a catwalk, he moved quietly through the new chamber. Spotting another tunnel, he darted inside.

Ahead of him he spotted the White Rabbit, standing near a hole in the wall of the mine shaft and shrunk down to the size of an insect. The Rabbit tapped its watch and darted through the hole.

Immediately, he uncorked and downed the Getting-Small Potion. A dizzy feeling came over him, and he coughed…

ZOOP. He was three inches tall. By crawling through the hole in the wall, he'd fit.

Just then, a Spade appeared. The Card howled and swung its axe. He ran off just before he could be hit.

As he climbed through the tunnel in the wall, he heard the Card Guard shouting outside.

_That was actually easier than I thought._

_ That probably isn't a good thing...where did that Rabbit go now?_

_ Oh, well…the chase goes on. There's got to be a way out of this place, wherever it really is, and, if my recollection of the stories is correct in any sort of way, the way to go is after the White Rabbit..._

_ And into the frying pan..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII: Tick-Tock, Try to Stop...**

The Mad Hatter sat in a small, dark room in his laboratory, drinking mercury at a table with one chair and a sofa. He sighed just before he took a sip.

Work on prisoner 666 proved increasingly difficult. Who would've thought the beasty's will would be so strong? No matter; he'd had that problem before, and all wills broke in good time. The creature would soon take flight again, and would worship him, its maker, who forged it a new form...a form more powerful than its flesh and blood and bone could ever have proved. And, once it, the Hare, and the Dormouse were completed, he'd be able to amass an army that would overthrow the wicked Queen.

Hatter smiled; he liked that idea.

CLUPK, CLUPK.

A knock came at the door.

"Come in," Hatter called almost pleasantly. The door opened, and then closed. A slithering, scraping, scuttling sound was heard...and a long, coiled, segmented body soon was curled on the sofa at the other end of the table, illuminated in the single light that was in the room like a monstrous ghoul.

The Voracious Centipede was a truly terrible spectacle to behold. His slavery mandibles constantly clacked as they moved, and his beady black eyes shone with malice and hunger, a gluttony that would never be sated. Its upper body wore a tight-fitting blue military jacket, and on the top of its head it wore a spiked soldier's helmet – a pickelhaube – with an image of a cross and a flaming heart on it. The Centipede's many legs were clawed, making it, quite literally, armed from head to toes.

"Vhat is it, Hatter?" growled the Voracious Centipede in a heavy, German accent. When he spoke, the Hatter glimpsed a long, slimy, blue tongue covered in blisters.

"Hello to you to, General," said the Hatter coolly, unaffected by the appearance of the insect commander. "Did you not notice the Sun today?"

"Yus."

"And what would you take that to mean, my dear Centipede, seeing that it has not shone in...oh, I think we're going on twenty years?"

"I...do nut know, Hatter..."

"It means, you empty-headed arachnid, that the so-called-savior of the Resistance has arrived. The work of my counterpart, no doubt..."

A pause.

"Vhat is it you vant ve to do, Hatter?"

"I 'vant' you to kill him. Simple as that. Take everything you want, except for the head. I might have need of it. Also kill anyone with him...I have little use for them."

"Understud. Vho av I to look for?"

"A man dressed like a bat. His name is Bruce Wayne, but he calls himself Batman."

"I vay have need of vore Nightvare Spiders-"

"Done."

"And vore Ladybug Autovaton-"

"Check. Anything else?"

"...No."

"Good. Get out and go. You know where the shrinking serum is."

The Centipede nodded and uncoiled himself, preparing to leave, hefting his grotesque body off of the sofa.

A bright, red, raw spot on his middle segment caught Hatter's attention.

"Been busy, I see."

"It vas a snark..."

"Ah. I see. Goodbye."

The Centipede nodded again and left the room The Mad Hatter frowned thoughtfully, looking at his reflection in the liquid in his cup.

_One Batman, an Easter bunny, and a mangy cat against an army of bugs...not good odds for Centipede. Especially not with a wound that vulnerable...that obvious..._

The Hatter smirked, his eyes lighting up fiendishly.

_I think it's time we even the odds._

"Tweedles!"

Like lightning, the Tweedles swung into the room.

"Aye, doctor?"

"I could use some exercise. I'm going out for a walk. Watch the labs, and keep an eye on 666."

The Tweedles exchanged a confused look.

"A...walk, doctor?" questioned Tweedledee.

"Yes, a walk. Is that a problem?"

The Hatter's voice was deceptively calm.

"Well, no," Tweedledum said, "But..."

"But _WHAT?"_

The Hatter pressed the pointed end of his cane to Tweedledum's neck. The shortest Tweedle felt a hollow form in the tip.

"But _what,_ Tweedledum?"

"N-nothin'! Ne'er min'! Yer th' boss, Doctor 'Atter!"

The Hatter sneered. The cane closed up.

"Don't you ever forget it. If anything goes wrong here while I'm away, I'll put you up on the rack with the Hare."

The Mad Hatter turned his pointed nose toward Tweedledee.

"You help him, and if you fail me, I'll hang you from the tower. Am I clear?"

"C-crystal, doctor," the twins chorused.

"Excellent. Goodbye."

As the Hatter marched away to a nearby elevator, both of the Tweedles let out a sigh of relief before heading off. The prisoners and experiments on floor 18 were overdue for a flaying...


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII: The Garden Will Take You**

Having left the Gnome Mines, Batman found himself now in a dark, exotic wood. The treetops were lush and green, yet everything at ground level was another story. Many flowers – at his current size, as tall as trees themselves – lined a path of black, charred stones, and everything held a sense of both beauty and chaos. As he walked on, he noticed the flowers were actually _staring_ at him, with small, beady red eyes. Pink roses chattered to each other, eyeing him with what seemed to be hungry glares.

"Blood Roses," purred Cheshire, swirling into view. "Keep your eyes on them...vain and dimwitted, they are not without weaponry; those thorns detach."

"How many are there?"

"Hundreds," was the casual response. "But, if we stay on Rabbit's trail, we'll encounter only a few. They aren't our main worry."

"I see."

Cheshire stopped walking.

"You know," he growled, "you seem to be taking our oddities in your stride. I can't help but find that strange, even for this world."

"This world isn't real."

The cat chuckled.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically, swallowing a giggle. "Then what is it?"

"A dream. An illusion."

"And when did you fall asleep?"

"Don't play coy," was the low, dark response. "You know who Tetch is, so you must know how I got here."

"Ah, I see now...you think this is the work of one of his little 'dream bonnets,' hm?"

"I don't think. I KNOW."

"If you insist. But, in any case, take fair warning: this dream is a _killer._ They say you are your enemies' worst nightmare, but Wonderland is _yours._ It is neither totally real nor totally fantastical. We neither exist nor lie in limbo. This land is a fairy tale, but also a tragedy, and only you, Batman, can fix it, or otherwise heighten the horrors we hold. Die here, perish elsewhere. There is no way out."

"It seems to me," Batman snapped, "that you speak in riddles without ever giving real advice."

The cat raised an eyebrow.

"Wonderland is no fun without riddles," he said simply, and vanished.

_He's as confusing as the stories say..._

_ Well, at least I can count on a few things being expected...namely the unexpected..._

_ WHAT THE...?_

A long, green, tentacle-like appendage had wrapped around his ankle. Batman grunted as he was thrown into the air and slammed back into the dirt, before the strange, green tentacle grabbed him again and lifted him up.

The petals of a Blood Rose twitched...and then opened, revealing a gaping, toothless maw and petals lined in yellow thorns set in rows, like shark teeth. Green, slick fluid – the Rose's equivalent to saliva – dripped from each area.

_Carnivorous roses..._

_ What next?_

Thankfully, the Rose had failed to grab his hands, and a bat-o-rang cut through the tentacle within seconds. The Rose shrieked like a wild beast and lunged, "jaws" wide open. With a knife like stroke of the bat-o-rang in his hand, the Dark Knight sliced the "head" off of the corrupted plant.

This was a mistake.

All the flowers let out a wail of anger, and every Rose in the area opened up its mouth, green vines reaching out, flailing like whips. Batman ran, hacking and slicing, spilling green "blood" everywhere.

_You'd think I was in Poison Ivy's greenhouse..._

Suddenly, the garden disappeared.

He blinked.

Cheshire sat slightly above him on a tree branch. His smile never faltered, yet his feline eyes held an irritated glare.

"For a crimefighter," he grumbled. "You seem to get into more than your fair share of trouble here. You can thank me later."

"I've had worse."

"Keep saying that: prevarication may be of help in times like these," grinned the Cheshire Cat. Then he was gone.

_I'm really beginning to dislike him..._

"Well, you've taken you're sweet time!"


	9. Chapter 9

Note: The past few chapters, I've noticed, have been painfully boring and short...at least for me. Don't worry, good readers...that won't last long! Now we're getting into the good parts! Also, for those who want to know, _fledermausmench _is German for "Batman", and _das kaninchen_ is German for "the Rabbit." Now, I hope you don't have...

**Chapter IX: Arachnophobia**

The White Rabbit crouched low behind a clump of weeds. He motioned for Batman to come with him, and then promptly scampered off again.

_I took my sweet time…?_

_ He didn't WAIT…_

"At least I had a reason-"

"Forget reason," snapped Rabbit. "It's useless here. Come along, now: Caterpillar is waiting…"

_Caterpillar…?_

"Who?"

The Rabbit sighed irritably.

"Don't you ever _read?_"

No response. Rabbit sighed again and took a quick look at his watch. Its hands shaped like spears, and circled a pin shaped like a human skull. He put it back in his pocket.  
"Caterpillar," he said, straining what little patience he had, "is our oracle. No one's wiser in Wonderland…except maybe Cheshire…"

"You called?"

Rabbit jumped as the tell-tale gold swirl appeared beside him, followed by the Cheshire Cat's lanky form.

"How many times…?"

"At least once more," purred the cat. "Please, continue."

"_You_ continue. I don't have time."

_You never do, if I recall…_

The cat rolled his eyes and turned to Batman.

"Caterpillar, as you recall, is a disagreeable old insect who smokes too much. Nevertheless, he is immeasurably wise, as Rabbit said. Only he knows how you may save us, and thus escape from Wonderland."

"…Save you?"

"You haven't been paying attention, have you?" Rabbit practically shrieked.

"Calm yourself, Rabbit," purred Cheshire.

"Calm!" the White Rabbit laughed humorlessly, turning on the cat. "Oh, that's a good one! Calm? Cheshire, how can I be _calm?_ Caterpillar's waiting, the Queen's making a garbage bin of our world, the Hatter is madder than ever, and our only help is an masked lunatic in a ridiculous bat costume? _CALM?_ Ha!"

The Rabbit grumbled under his breath, turning away and beginning to walk faster.

"My apologies," Cheshire whispered. "After all, he _is_ a rabbit."

"What's going on here, exactly?" Batman whispered back.

"Oh, so this is no longer an 'illusion' then?"

"I'm in a dream. I want to know how to get out. To do that, I need answers."

The cat groaned softly.

"Clearly, you're stubborn, foolish, or both. Whatever. Anyway…"

Cheshire took a deep breath, and then began.

"The Queen of Hearts killed her husband, and our world has degraded since. Every twist you see is her doing. The Mad Hatter has betrayed us: he was supposed to have been making weapons for the Resistance, but now he works for the Queen. His cyborganic soldiers – Automaton – scour the land. They come in all shapes and sizes…and forms, from insect to gnome."

"Resistance?"

"Yes. You honestly believe we _enjoy_ living here in this rat hole?"

_Good point._

"What about Alice?"

Here both the cat and the rabbit stopped. The rabbit fidgeted nervously, and the cat coughed to prompt him.

"Alice…died."

_…Dead._

_ The heroine of the story is dead._

Immediately, a problem was realized: Tetch, in his obsession, had fallen in love with his secretary, named Alice Pleasance. Needless to say, this name, to say nothing of the fact she was blonde and her favorite color was blue, only heightened the maniac's infatuation for her. When the woman spurned his affections, Jervis Tetch went on a rampage, and became the Mad Hatter. But he had often admitted, without shame, that he still truly loved the girl...

Why would Tetch create a world, as twisted as it was, without an Alice?

Which brought up a question...

"What do you know about my world?"

Cheshire grinned wider.

"Just enough."

Batman grabbed the cat by the throat and lifted it up.

_"That's not the answer I want."_

"Well, get used to it!" hissed the cat, and sunk his teeth into the Caped Crusader's arm. Batman let out a short groan of pain and dropped the gangly feline, who leapt back, crouched in fury, hair bristling.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" cried the White Rabbit, holding his front paws up placatingly. "Please! This is getting us nowhere fast, and time is of the essence!"

Reluctantly, both settled down. Rabbit smirked slightly, as if amused...

And then, without warning, jumped down behind a clump of grass, crouching, on full alert, ears dipped slightly to stay hidden.

"Quick, quick, over here!" he hissed.

The cat vanished and then reappeared beside Rabbit, crouched down beside him, and Batman crept over and followed suit.

Through a gap in the grass, he saw the absolute largest centipede to walk the earth...and this was regarding it from a normal sized standpoint. The creature was three times bigger than the shrunken Dark Knight and his allies, wearing a tight-fitting military suit and pickelhaube, with beady eyes and a blue tongue, its many arms and legs tipped in long, deadly, scythe-like claws. Surrounding it was an army of what appeared to be fire ants, dressed in jackets similar to the Centipede's and carrying rifles with bayonets. Several of them rode upon what appeared to be robotic ladybugs with orange "shells" and camera shutter eyes. The Centipedes spoke to them in a deep, heavy baritone...it sounded like he was speaking German. Between two of the Army Ants was a large, black metal box, which quivered slightly.

_I don't want to know what's in that box..._

"Fascinating," remarked the Cheshire Cat in a whisper. "The Voracious Centipede and his insects are having a rally, or so it seems."

"We should be going," the White Rabbit whispered, almost whimpering.

Suddenly an Army Ant turned, as if to look at one of its comrades. It spotted the Rabbit's ears and began to shout, hissing.

"_Das Kaninchen!" _it yelled, its voice a raspy Germanic accent, and in one fluid motion aimed and fired its musket, missing by a centimeter as the Rabbit ducked even lower.

"Oh, you think so?" snarled Cheshire, and vanished.

"Run! This way!" the Rabbit said, and took off. Batman followed, bullets flying everywhere.

"It is the _Fledermausmench_!" roared the Centipede from behind them. "Release ze Nightvare Spiders!"

_Nightmare Spiders...?_

Suddenly, one of the Ladybug Automaton flew above them, and dropped the mysterious black crate onto the ground in front of Batman and the White Rabbit.

The box flew opened...and out came four of the most disturbing creatures Batman had seen yet. They had the bodies of female Black Widow spiders, with faces like a China doll's, but with moving mouths with elongated canines...vampiric fangs.

The spiders made soft, cooing, girlish giggles, a language they alone could understand, which heightened their nightmarish (no pun intended) appearance.

_**Bruce,**_ came a voice in his head. _**Bruce? Come play, Bruce...**_

__"This way!" said Rabbit, dodging to the side, and bounding off.

But Batman did not follow. He felt hypnotized by the tender, baby blue eyes of the four giant Spiders.

_**Are you scared, Bruce?**_

_ No._

_**Ohh...then, if you aren't scared, why won't you play with us?**_

___Get out of my head...get out of my head...!_

The spiders giggled in chorus.

_**Silly, silly Bruce...we promise, your mommy and daddy won't find out...**_

_** Not that they ever could...**_

___...What?_

_**Don't be a dummy! We know about them. Everybody does. Such a shame...such a waste of life...**_

___Get out...get out..._

_**Aw...do we have cooties? Please, don't be upset with us...come and play...and we can bring mommy and daddy back-**_

Suddenly the voices ended. The Spiders – their fanged mouths inches from Batman – stood perfectly still, unable to move anything but their blue eyes, which looked angry and confused. They made pitiful whimpering sounds, looking over to Batman's left.

The White Rabbit stood there, holding his watch out in front of him like some kind of shield.

"It's a Deadtime Watch. It stops time for a time. Now RUN!"

No further prompting was necessary. Batman took off, and Rabbit followed.

Behind them, they heard a series of wild, Germanic curses.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X: On Top of His Mushroom...**

Batman and the White Rabbit stopped running only when the sounds of the insect army had faded and ceased. They stopped, the Rabbit struggling for breath.

"Well, that was certainly a close call!" panted Rabbit, who pulled his watch from his pocket and squeezed it gently, as if to take out all his nervousness on its golden shell. "Those Spiders...they hadn't even been _used_ before...Mr. Wayne?"

Batman had been staring at the ground listlessly. He shook his head slightly and snapped his head up to look at the White Rabbit.

"I'm all right."

"...Whatever you say, Mr. Wayne."

"Well," purred a voice, "it appears circumstance is on our side."

The pair turned to see the Cheshire Cat, lounging on a tree branch just above their heads. He pointed off into the distance with one black claw, his ubiquitous smile filled with cruel amusement at the pair's misadventure.

No more than twenty yards away was what looked like a forest...of mushrooms.

"The Lair of the Oracle," Rabbit whispered to himself, as if in reverence, taking off his piper hat and putting it over his heart, bowing his gaunt head, closing his single good eye, which somewhat lessened the grotesque quality of its swollen one.

"Yes," said Cheshire, rubbing against the trunk to scratch his back; he had a flea there that refused to vacate the premises of his spine. "And only Batsy is allowed in."

_...Batsy?_

_ Funny...that's the same nickname that..._

A white face, green hair, and a demented, crimson-lipped smile suddenly popped up in his head. He mentally wiped the image away.

"Well," purred Cheshire, "every adventure requires a first step. A bit trite, I suppose, but I really can't think of anything else to say. Ta-ta, for now!"

The cat's body disappeared, followed closely by his head.

His grin was the last thing to go.

"Go on," whispered the Rabbit. "Take care. I'll wait for you out here."

Batman made no response. He simply walked up to the edge of the Mushroom Patch and entered.

The Mushrooms were varying yet plain in color, in shades of pastel yellow, pale purple, dull red, and ashen gray. Several of the smaller mushrooms (probably no bigger in diameter than a penny from above and about as tall from a normal-sized standpoint) had large, bugged eyes – "googly" a child might have said – that rolled and swiveled as they watched him go by. Remembering his encounter with the Blood Roses, the Dark Knight kept his eyes on these particular fungi, his hand never straying far from his utility belt.

"Who...are..._you?"_

Batman turned a corner as this voice was heard. A pasty orange mushroom with a short stem and unnaturally large cap stood on a small mound of what appeared to be moss and gravel. On top of this mushroom was a small throne, made out of what appeared to be two dead moths. And sitting in this throne, smoking a water hookah, was a large, green-gray caterpillar, with pupil-less eyes, wearing a red fez with a gold tassel. It's thick, sausage-round lips revealed a toothless mouth.

"Ah...Bruce Wayne," said Caterpillar in a voice like a cold, shallow wind. "You've come at last."

"The Caterpillar, I presume."

"You presume correctly, Caped Crusader" the Caterpillar said flatly, taking a puff of his hookah and blowing out a large, gray smoke ring.

A pause.

"You have been brought here for a reason," the Caterpillar began after a while.

_I'm here because I was ambushed..._

"You have come to me for answers," Caterpillar went on. "This is, of course, why I exist. I know everything you need to know. But you must ask to receive these answers, you know."

"What is all this?"

The Caterpillar took a deep puff from his hookah before saying, "Wonderland has been severely damaged, as you can plainly see. You must set things right."

"Damaged?"

"Look around," the Caterpillar said, waving one of his six hands about aimlessly at the mushroom forest. "Does this look as it should?"

"...No."

"Our situation is indeed urgent," Caterpillar said, shaking his head slowly, wearily. "You see, Wonderland is a collection of the subconscious realm and its thoughts for a single controller: in this case, your old friend, Jervis Tetch."

"...Controller?"

"For a detective, you seem to have more questions than answers," remarked Caterpillar. "Yes, controller: there is a hypothesis – unable to be tested by the more 'scientific' minds of your world – that for every thought there is a separate universe. Wonderland is the wonders of the mind of one who believes in us most. Tetch was strong enough a believer to name himself after one of our leading characters, so he took control. Our realm has degraded exponentially since, and, having lost what he loved, we were very nearly wiped out."

Here the larva paused impressively.

"Then you came," he said. "When you answered Rabbit's call, you began to rebuild this place – although something tells me you didn't know it – and thus many of our leading citizens became aware of your identity and your presence. Your task, and your pain, are not over, however."

"How do I get home?"

The Caterpillar's thick lips twisted up into a strangely disturbing smile.

"You must destroy the Queen of Hearts."

A silence.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Like me or don't, but _believe_ me: there is no way home from Wonderland. The only way to escape our chaos is to right the havoc in some way or form. Our world has become nearly lawless, and so it is no surprise you are here."

Another pause.

"You think this is a dream."

"Yes."

"Then stop thinking that. You'll never beat the Queen by convincing yourself of our supposed nonexistence. Nothing happens by chance; as I said before, there's a reason for your being here."

"...How do I kill the Queen?"

"You must rebuild the Jabberwock's Eyestaff. Only the powerful beam it emits can open the gates of the Heart Palace in Queensland, and only its light is enough to conquer the Queen and her dark namesake."

"And how do I...?"

"First you must grow back to your usual size. To do this, find the Mushroom of Life. The Voracious Centipede guards it in his lair...he cannot use its power himself, so he hordes it like a jealous and miserly fiend. As for everything after...the Rabbit and the Cat will explain. Farewell, Batman."

Here the Caterpillar took a long, deep puff from his hookah...and blew a billowing cloud of gray smoke into Batman's face. The Dark Knight coughed and spluttered, trying to shake the noxious vapor away.

When it cleared, the Lair of the Oracle had vanished.

"Well," purred Cheshire, walking up from behind him. "Something tells me that was an interesting discussion."

"What did Caterpillar tell you?" inquired the White Rabbit, hopping up on the other side, nose twitching anxiously.

Batman paused, and took a deep breath.

"This may take some time for you to answer..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI: You Might Not Want to Follow**

"The Jabberwock's Eyestaff is incomparably powerful. Unfortunately, the weapon requires assembly."

"Yes, indeed; separated as they are, the Eyestaff pieces are as valuable to us as a dead gnat."

The Cheshire Cat and the White Rabbit had been explaining Caterpillar's instructions for quite some time. They had led Batman out of the Wonderland Woods, and now were moving through an area Rabbit called "the Vale of Tears," a misty, swampy area, with a deep, algae-infested river running through it, filled with pieces of driftwood that resembled dominoes. As they walked on, they passed a strange waterfall, the stone wall it cascaded from carved into the shape of a weeping woman, her face anquished, her hands on her ears.

"Where are the pieces located? And how many are there?"

"There are three pieces," Rabbit answered. "Two of them, which make up the staff itself, were entrusted to two leaders of the Resistance."

"Who?"

"Well, one of them, the first rod, is in the possession of the White Queen in the Pale Realm. As for the second..."

"Don't worry," Cheshire growled. "I know where it is. We'll come to it eventually."

"The Pale Realm?"

"The Chessland, in the commoner's tongue," Cheshire purred. "It is a region of eternal war: the Whites – who take side with the Resistance – are locked in an everlasting and bloody feud with the Reds – who take side with the Queen – often dying, only to be replaced by the magic of their world. The higher the piece's rank, the longer it can take for them to be resurrected. To reach the Pale Realm, we must get to the Skool at the Fortress of Doors."

"Skool?"

"Another of the Queen's concentration camps...sort of," Rabbit said, uncomfortably. "Anyway, the third piece will most likely be the hardest to retrieve."

"What is it?"

"As the name implies, it is an eye from the Jabberwock."

Rabbit shuddered as he spoke the name.

"Jabberwock?"

"The Queen's most terrifying soldier and guardian," purred Cheshire, strangely and disturbingly casual. "It was thought to have been killed by a White Knight during a battle in the Chessland, but-"

The Cheshire Cat never finished his sentence. The White Rabbit, who had been leading the way, suddenly stopped, crouched low, ears swiveling, his one good eye peering about with intense caution.

"What is it, Rabbit?" whispered the feline.

"I'm not sure...scout the area behind us, just in case, will you?"

"Right," purred the cat, and vanished.

"What's wrong?" asked Batman, reaching for a bat-o-rang.

"Well...it's very _quiet_ all of a sudden. No screams, no cries, not even the chatter of a dodo...I don't like it. Quiet around here is never a good sign. Stay here, I'm going to run up ahead."

Rabbit took off, bounding as fast as his bony legs could carry him.

Then...

_**KA-THUMP, KA-THAMP, KA-THUMP, KA-THAMP...**_

__Just before Rabbit vanished into a thick cloud of mist about 90 feet away, Batman saw his ears drop low, and he backpedaled furiously, before taking off like an arrow back towards Batman, an expression of pure, raw fear etched into his disfigured features, visible even from such a far distance in such a foggy area.

Out of the mist came a thin, gangly giant, with a loose-limbed body, like a scarecrow, wrapped in an old straitjacket. On its thin hands it wore rubber gloves, and its lanky legs were shrouded in black trousers. It wore shoes with spats, and in one hand it carried a cane with a teapot-shaped ornament, colored a garish pink. Protruding from its humped back was what appeared to be a rusty gear.

On its head, it wore a stovepipe hat with a chessboard pattern, decorated in the signs of the zodiac. Batman couldn't see the titan's face, but, judging from the long, green nose that could be seen under the hat brim, he felt that that was probably a good thing.

The giant lifted a foot, its shadow hovering over the Rabbit, who looked up and let a terrified, squealing scream just before the foot fell...

...Right on top of him.

Then, as if to drill the horrible deed further, the giant scraped its foot in the mud before picking it back up and setting it down in a normal position.

Even in the mist, Batman could make out the gory remains of the White Rabbit.

_NO...!_

The giant in the top hat lifted its head slightly. In the shadow of its hat brim, the Dark Knight could plainly see a pair of cold, steely gray eyes. It flipped its cane in its hand and leveled the pointed tip toward Batman's miniscule form.

An opening appeared.

Fighting against mad, gimmicky criminals had taught Batman one thing: canes with tips that opened up were never a good sign.

He ran off, the giant tracing his moves with its cane.

**BLAM!**

What appeared to be a missile – a bullet – flew from the cane, creating a small crater. The displacement of the ground sent Batman sprawling. He quickly clambered behind a rock, trying to form an escape plan...

Up above, the Mad Hatter overlooked his dastardly deed. The bothersome Bat wasn't dead yet, and he wasn't going to bother looking for him now...but the accursed Rabbit was, and that would make the Queen very happy. With a triumphant smirk, Hatter stalked off, whistling gaily at his "small" victory.

Batman watched as the top-hatted creature stomped back into the mists and vanished.

Impulse sent him sprinting.

He knew what he'd find. He knew there was no hope.

But that didn't stop him.

He slowed, and went up, crouching beside Rabbit's corpse. His one good eye was still bugged out in terror. His teeth were shattered, his bones hopelessly smashed, his waistcoat and piper hat covered in mud and bloodstains. As for everything else...it resembled an uncooked pancake covered in scarlet syrup.

There was no point in checking for a pulse or a sign of breath...the White Rabbit was most definitely deceased.

Cheshire swirled into view. A sinister smile still adorned his feline face, yet his eyes shone with sadness.

"I saw everything," he meowed. "He wasn't the brightest star in the sky, but still..."

"I'm cursed."

"Beg pardon?"

Batman looked up slightly.

"Everyone I've ever really cared for," he said slowly, "Gets hurt. Many of them die violently...unnaturally..."

The cat hissed. A burning scratch was suddenly sliced into Batman's exposed cheek.

"This was not your fault, you buffoon!" hissed the Cheshire Cat. "No time for self-pity! Run ahead, and find Centipede's lair! I'll catch up with you."

Batman looked at the cat, then at the Rabbit, and then took off.

Cheshire watched him go, and then sighed before swirling away.

"It looks like the chore of making sure he doesn't get himself killed is all on me now. Goodbye, Rabbit. Don't be late..."


	12. Chapter 12

Notes: This is the very first "Battle Chapter." For those of you who don't know what I mean by this, the chapter you are about to read centers primarily around a boss battle from _American McGee's Alice._ Allow me to repeat: I HAVE NEVER PLAYED THE GAME. However, I have seen speed-play videos and gameplay clips. This gives me, I think, at least a _small_ amount of knowledge on how the bosses play out. Now, without further ado...

**Chapter XII: Makes You Larger...**

A pair of Army Ants were stationed, rifles in claws, on either side of what appeared to be the head of a nutcracker, surrounded on four sides by torches. The mouth of the wooden toy was open, and a small, termite-carved hole could be seen inside, leading down into a tunnel that led down into the ground.

This was the entrance to the Centipede's Sanctum.

Batman flicked out two bat-o-rangs and flung them at the ants...

The blades stuck through the "foreheads" of the insects, and they fell dead, whitish-green blood spilling from their injuries. Briefly haunted, Batman crept past them, just in case, and crawled into the mouth of the nutcracker...

Suddenly, as he approached the hole in the ground, he found himself tumbling down a slide-shaft, made of what felt like sandpapered bark. He fell head first into a dark, cavernous chamber, lit by a hole in the ceiling, which was lined in stalactites.

_Ouch._

_ I knew that was too easy._

In the center of the chamber stood a broken pillar. On this pillar was a large, golden yellow mushroom striped in jade green.

_The Mushroom of Life..._

_ Centipede must be out._

_As Rabbit would say, let's do this quickly..._

"I've never trusted toadstools, but I suppose some must have their good points," growled the Cheshire Cat, swirling into view on the top of the pillar, underneath the giant mushroom, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"I've _got_ to be hallucinating..."

"Most would wish they were."

_Hm. Pillar's too tall to just reach up and grab...I'll have to climb it. Sides are too smooth to just grab and climb, and there's nothing to latch a grappling line onto, either..._

_ "YOU!"_

A familiar, German voice roared down the shaft.

Cheshire promptly disappeared.

Down from the passage slithered the Voracious Centipede.

"How _dare_ you trespass here?" bellowed the Centipede, and slashed out with one claw. Batman ducked quickly, and tossed a bat-o-rang.

THAP. It bounced off.

"You fool! Your silly little toys are no vatch for vy arvor!" laughed the Centipede, his arrogant, rasping cackle echoing around the Sanctum.

_Will you stop talking like a B-Movie villain and just attack?_

_ ...On second thought, keep talking..._

The giant arachnid lunged, and Batman dodged, dropping a smoke pellet onto the ground. Centipede coughed and spluttered, looking around as Batman ducked behind the cloud of smoke, creeping slowly around the insect's body.

"Cowvard! Shov yourself!"

Batman flung a flash capsule directly into the face of the Centipede, who shrieked with anger, covering his eyes in pain and surprise at the blinding flash of light produced, lashing out wildly with four other limbs. As the beast reared up, a red, raw wound was visible on his belly.

_A gap in the armor...a wound. Perfect._

Before Batman could act on this discovery, a claw grabbed him by the cape, followed by three more, on his arms and left leg. He was slammed against the wall, right leg bent behind him. The Voracious Centipede snarled softly, licking his mandibles with a blistered, blue, slimy tongue.

"I vill bite off your head, and take it to the Vad Hatter. After I have consuved the rest of your body, nothing shall stand in vy vay from taking over the Voods. Any last vords, dinner?"

"I really, really hate bugs."

"That'll vork," Centipede growled, chuckling in anticipation. He opened his mandibles wide, revealing a vast, gaping hole. His blistered tongue snaked around Batman's neck...

In a lightning-fast motion, Batman loosened a bat-o-rang from his belt and jabbed at the wrist of the Centipede, who, surprised, loosened his grip. Wrenching his arm free, the Dark Knight cut at the blistered tongue, which spurted pus and arachnid blood. The Centipede shrieked with pain and dropped his quarry. As the monster reared back, two claws over its maw, its injury was exposed fully, providing a perfect target.

The bat-o-rang sunk deep into the wound. The beast screamed even louder, and reached down with three claws, pulling it out, pale, greenish blood now pouring in founts. The Centipede screamed out louder still, and fled back up the tunnel, cursing in German and roaring loudly.

The noise of the Voracious Centipede's bloody retreat shook the chamber, and several stalactites crashed down. Coincidentally, three of them smashed down in an arcing pattern near the pillar, forming a set of stairs.

_Well...that worked out nicely..._

As Batman climbed up to the Mushroom, Cheshire reappeared, just where he had been earlier.

"Nice job. So, you actually have a brain under that ridiculous, pointy-eared cowl, I see."

"You could have helped."

"Could've, would've, should've, DIDN'T."

"What now."

"Take a bite. It's rude to eat-and-run, but sometimes it is unavoidable. Me? I'll meet you later on. There is something I have to take care of..."

And without another word, the cat vanished once more. Batman broke off a piece of the Mushroom of Life. It felt malleable and soft, almost like clay...not like a normal mushroom at all, but more like the fruit of a banana. He put it into his mouth and, without even chewing, swallowed it.

_Taste's awful..._

He felt a strange sensation, like all the blood was rushing to his head...

He blacked out.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII: Time Out of Joint**

Hatter stood still in his chambers, hands and cane held behind him, the gear in his back slowly turning, gazing with uncanny lucidity at a portrait he had placed inside the glass of a clock. The picture was of a young woman, probably just out of her teens, with long, straight, dark brown hair, fair skin, rosy lips, and green, cat-like eyes that allowed every emotion imaginable to filter through, even in a painted form. She wore a blue blouse and skirt, over which she wore a vanilla apron with deep pockets and a frilly edge, printed with a zero and a four, as well as black, pointed-toe shoes and striped stockings. The Mad Hatter became lost in her eyes, which had, after all, always been the feature he adored most.

"She was so beautiful," he found himself whispering.

"Yes, wasn't she?"

Hatter's eyes narrowed. He gripped his cane tighter, but did not turn around.

"Cheshire. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off while I have the chance."

"How about _her?_"

Hatter half-sighed, half-chuckled.

"Well, it isn't a GOOD reason, but, then, reason is useless here."

"Huh. Funny. Rabbit said the same thing."

Hatter smiled deviously.

"Yes, I know."

"What was the purpose for you killing him? I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat. However, if you _really_ want to know, I did it because I wanted to. No other real reason, actually. Besides which, without a Timekeeper, and with you popping in and out as you please, that pesky Bat's going to be considerably slowed down."

"I see."

The bitter edge in the cat's voice caused the Hatter's smile to widen.

"Why did you come here, cat?"

"Oh, just passing the time. You know, the way cadavers are apt to do?"

Hatter's smile vanished.

"Not funny, Cheshire."

"Well, they can't all be gems. Rather like your riddle, eh?"

"Hm? What riddle?"

"'Why is a raven like a writing desk?'"

The Hatter smiled again, this time with a nostalgic, fond sort of feeling.

"Ahh...I'd nearly forgotten it. Do you know the answer?"

"No. Nor does the detective, it seems."

"Is that what he is?"

"Well, technically, he's a vigilante."

"A crimefighter. No wonder he's here. He must have gone after Tetch..."

"Yes. Curse that man."

"Uh-huh. You were a pest."

"What?"

"Before...everything. You really were quite irritating; I suppose you still are. Disappearing this, evaporating that, perplexing people with puzzles and confounding them with conundrums, to say nothing of the grief you brought Dormy..."

"Well, I was still no match for you, was I?"

"I am FIXING him."

"Like you tried to fix her?"

Once again, the Hatter's smile vanished from his face.

"What do you want, cat?"

"What happened, Hatter? That's all I've ever wanted to know, really. They told me you killed her, but something about that story doesn't seem quite right, especially with you idolizing that painting every day."

"Every day, from 4:00 to 4:15. Time's nearly up."

"Right...anyway, I just can't help but think that there is something more to it."

Hatter was silent for a moment.

"You should leave," he said at last, still keeping his back to the feline, the gear in his back speeding up in its rotation. "If the Queen were to find out..."

Cheshire's eyes narrowed.

"You can't hide from Fate forever, Hatter. Or has your twisted sense of perfection blinded you so totally that you can't realize even that?"

"Why didn't you bring Batman here with you?"

"Do you always answer questions with questions?"

"Do you?"

The cat's expression was icy and dark.

"Hatter," he hissed. "If Alice-"

"ENOUGH ABOUT HER!" Hatter roared, all of a sudden. "She is DEAD! Like your precious little Bat-boy will be DEAD! Like my soul! Like _Wonderland's_ soul! DEAD, DEAD, DEAD! Alice is no more, do you understand? DEAD! _AND SO ARE YOU, CAT!"_

The Mad Hatter flipped his cane-gun into position, turning fast to face his foe, but the Cheshire Cat had vanished before he could pull the trigger. He stood for a moment, still in a firing pose, panting out his breaths in cold, thin gasps, sounding like a blacksmith's bellows in his fury.

After a time, he relaxed, sighed, and once more focused his gray, unblinking eyes on the portrait of the green-eyed girl. He ran a single, rubber-gloved hand along the clock glass.

"Well, Alice," he murmered. "What do I do now? That blasted cat has a point, you know: I can't fix everything...Time still keeps the past out of my hands, and Truth and Lie are in hiding from me."

He stood, still stroking the glass, quiet, as if waiting for the painting to answer his question. He exhaled through his long nose wearily.

"It was all so much...simpler, before..."

"HATTER!"

The Mad Hatter snapped back into reality. He turned toward the source of the shout. The Voracious Centipede, grown to human size, struggled up the ramp to the chamber. Shuddering gasps racked his long body. Whitish-green, copious fluid – arachnid blood – dripped from a gaping hole in his body, over which he clutched five claws.

"Ah! Centipede!" Hatter greeted, as if the sight of the injured bug lord was akin to a curious cloud on a clear day. (Of which there had been none in a long time.) "The Bat still flies, I take it?"

"Y-yus!" groaned the Centipede. "He vanaged to get the vushroov! I've...I've been v-vounded-"

BLAM!

The Voracious Centipede let out one last gasp, and then collapsed, his great, many-legged form twitching a few times before going completely still. A bullet was lodged in his brain, behind one soft, insectoid eye.

Hatter grinned, his cane-gun still smoking.

"Take a break."

Tweedledee and Tweedledum tumbled up the ramp, each carrying a baseball bat, alerted by the gunshot and commotion.

"Tweedles!" barked the Hatter. "Clean this mess up, and cut the beasty into segments. Even in death, he will serve a useful purpose: spare parts."

"Aye, doctor."

"Tweedledee?"

"Aye, doctor?"

"Is the Darkened Looking-Glass still open?"

"...Aye, doctor."

"Good. Get it ready for me once you are finished here. I've some business in the Pale Realm to take care of."

"Th' Chessland, doctor?"

"Yes," smiled the Hatter. "Batman's going after the Jabberwock's Eyestaff, and the first piece belongs to the White Queen."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter XIV: Skool's Out**

Batman stood in front of a great, concrete building, with thick, concrete walls and high, concrete towers. As if the concrete wasn't enough, each wall was lined in barbed wire. There were absolutely no windows, and from the other side of the walls came the sounds of mad wails and twisted laughter, along with tortured screams.

The word "Alcatraz" came to mind...

"This 'Skool' serves out more than unwholesome lunches," hissed Cheshire swirling in front of a great, iron door with two locks. "The laboratory is particularly interesting...if you're fond of inhaling arsenic fumes."

"Why do you call it the 'Skool?'"

"You will see," purred Cheshire. "Now, entrance should be easy; the thick walls may impede you...but never forget, Bruce; the hardest walls and shields to penetrate are those around us."

Before anything else could be said, the Cheshire Cat swirled out of view.

_What in the world did he say...?_

_Oh, heck with it. Let's see here..._

Batman slipped a gas mask out from a patch on his belt, and then pulled out a grappling line. Throwing it up onto the edge of the wall, he slowly began to climb up. Nimbly, he stepped over the barbed wire and glided down using his cape.

There were no Guards, nor any prisoners, it seemed, in the grounds, which held nothing but dust and large, purplish stones. Corpses lay everywhere, not even bothered to be buried...

And what they were corpses of was shockingly horrific.

_Children._

Gnome children, but children, still.

The dead Gnome children were garbed in white jumpsuits, like those of an insane asylum. Many of them seemed to have been victim to some sort of terrible torture, their heads locked into braces, their lips pulled up or to the sides by small straps, their eyelids often surgically removed on the bodies he saw. They were missing limbs or extremities frequently, ranging from a single finger to an entire arm.

_This isn't just a concentration camp...it's a experimentation ward._

"As haunting and demented as this picture is," purred Cheshire, "it is not wise to linger on it, Bruce. We have work to do."

Batman paused.

"How many are there?"

"Counting these ones? Seven hundred. And not one has outgrown their baby teeth. Sad."

Batman glared up.

"You don't care, do you?"

The cat's golden eyes significantly softened.

"Oh, I do. But the paths that lead to trouble all start the same way: unknown, until it's too late."

Cheshire quickly disappeared from sight...revealing a door, open just a crack, leading into a portable building with a sign reading, "Chemistry Lab."

_There's our next stop..._

Batman entered the building. A trapdoor in the floor of the bare interior told him where to go.

The underground of the Skool was like a great, ancient library. Scrolls, books, and plays all lined the walls, on old, moldy shelves, many crawling with insects. Below him, the terrible sounds of the tortured Gnome Children echoed. He could see several of them now: prodded by Diamonds and Clubs, the demented Children were seen toting wagons of body parts and pieces of machinery, or carrying armfuls of old scrolls and other printed materials and tossing them into the furnaces. The Card Guards jabbered and snarled, pushing many into small rooms...at which point, a sudden, loud scream would sound out.

"Countless generations of termites could digest only a fraction of these volumes," growled Cheshire, appearing on top of a book case, and impaling a small insect on one silvery claw, before sucking it into his mouth. "And they wouldn't be a mite wiser."

"These children...the braces, the surgery..."

"This is the Hatter's 'warehouse,' of sorts. All of his Automaton are based upon biological designs...children have the weakest willpower."

A low, almost inhuman growl came from Batman's throat.

"Monstrous."

"You're telling me. But keep your head: reckless behavior never goes unchallenged. Find the Darkened Looking-Glass in the bowels of this place. Remember: look straight ahead, or askance. Whichever way you choose, always look in the right direction. I'll see you further on...or I might not. Good luck."

Cheshire had not even fully disappeared when Batman began to look down the mine-like shaft, searching for the quickest way down without opposition.

_The sooner we get out of here the better...I'll end up killing something intentionally if I stay in this spot too long. Let's see..._

He spied a ledge, formed from a broken bookcase, half-embedded into the mud of the walls of the camp underground.

_That'll work._

He jumped down.

No Cards noticed him. He continued to jump from bookcase to bookcase, descending slowly but surely, stealthily.

Finally, he came to the door he'd been looking for: it read "Looking-Glass: Guards Only."

To be safe, rather than sorry, he pulled a bat-o-rang from his belt.

_Where's Cheshire? Well, he'll show up sooner or later..._

Suddenly, a small Gnome child spotted him, crouched up on the case. It began to howl like wild beast.

_"GoOgLy! GoOgLy! GrApPlEbEe! GoAiE!"_

The up-down, deranged voice of the diseased creature attracted the attention of a Diamond, who let out a war cry and fired his gun. Jumping out of the bullet's range, Batman disarmed the Card Guard quickly with a flash-capsule, blinding the nasty thing and forcing it to drop its gun. With a cackle of sick glee, the child jumped upon the Card, biting and scratching like a starving tiger cub.

Swiftly, Batman moved into the room, shutting the door and locking it by jamming an impact bat-o-rang into the space where the knob was; all the commotion was bound to attract more Cards.

The Child's mad rampage could be heard outside, it's hideous shrieks and giggles of twisted delight only slightly muffled by the door. The angry shouts of the Card slowly changed into agonized screams...

_The thing's eating him alive..._

_Why doesn't that thought give me some sense of pain?_

"About time," purred Cheshire. He popped up, sitting on his haunches patiently beside a large, tinted, cracked mirror with a plain wooden frame.

Batman went up to the mirror and tapped its glass...

It seemed solid enough.

"How does it work?"

Cheshire just smirked in response.

"You don't know, do you?"

Cheshire would have frowned, had he the ability.

"Of course I know. I was hoping you would be able to figure it out on your own, for once."

Batman looked around, exhaling irritatedly through his nose.

Finally, he spied a small panel, half hidden by a bookcase, which was covered by a red tarp, with three buttons: one red, one yellow, one blue.

"How do these buttons work?"

"THAT question I will answer: only the proper order of button pressing will lead you through the Looking-Glass."

"What's the code?"

"Not a clue; the Card's may not be very bright, but they know how to shuffle from day to day."

"By which, you mean, they change the code daily?"

"Exactly."

Suddenly, the noise outside increased, and a squealing sound was heard – the Gnome Child – followed by a disgusting sound of sharpened metal on flesh.

_A Spade..._

"Time's running out, Bruce..."

Batman pulled a small bag of white powder out of his pouch and dusted it onto the buttons, revealing three fingerprints.

_The red button has the thinnest-looking tread of all...the blue is next...the yellow has the thickest...all about the same, but just thin or thick enough to tell a difference. Clearly this isn't used very often..._

_At any rate, red is first, followed by the blue, with the yellow button being last._

_I hope._

He pressed in this code.

An axe-blade slammed into the wooden door, as the Spade Card Guard – a Four – began to yell and spout gibberish. It swung again...and again...

Batman tapped the glass...

_Come on...come on..._

The door collapsed. The Spade roared and dashed forward, axe held above its head...

Batman backed up...

...And fell right through the glass, as if it wasn't there.

His head landed on something hard...it felt like marble.

He got up and looked around.

The mirror had vanished. All around him, the ground seemed to be made of white and black tiles. The ground was totally flat, and geometric arches and bridges were everywhere...

And, directly in front of him, was a great, marble castle of white.

"Welcome to the Pale Realm," growled the Cheshire Cat, swirling into view. "And Through the Looking-Glass, Batsy."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter XV: Now That We're Here, On the Other Side...**

Batman stood up, looking around at the surreal surroundings of the Chessland. He stared for a short while at the purple, cloudless, sunless sky.

"What now?"

"Well, you've played chess before, I assume?"

"Yes."

"Then, if you know the moves, it's best to play with the Whites: they go first, after all."

Cheshire vanished.

Batman nodded to himself, and then walked off in the direction of the White Castle.

He was halfway there – about sixteen squares – when suddenly a crisp, English voice cried out, "HALT!"

He turned quickly, snapping out a bat-o-rang and instinctively throwing it.

What appeared to be a life-size chess piece, hopping about on a pedestal rather than walking on two legs, sidestepped the thrown weapon, and leveled a rapier sword at his throat. The piece was a White Knight, wearing a horse-head shaped helmet, under which could be seen a pair of glowing, violet eyes. The Knight carried a kite-shaped shield, and panted softly.

"Who art thou?" growled the Knight. "Where do your allegiances lie? Doest thou claim alliance to the bloody Red King?"

Batman took a moment to answer.

"Do I look like a Red piece?"

The Knight looked him over briefly, and then snorted, pulling away its rapier and sheathing it.

"Nay. That you do not. Queenside Knight, at your service."

_Queenside...?_

Cheshire swirled up, sitting beside Batman on the ground.

"His name comes from his placement: at the start of the game, he would be the Knight positioned closest to the White Queen."

_Oh._

The White Knight gaped down at the Cheshire Cat.

"Ye-Gods! The Cheshire Cat!"

"Thank you for this information, sir. I would not have known my name otherwise, eh?"

The Knight shook his head fastidiously, and then turned to Batman.

"Then...may the stars be praised! You must be the Savior the Resistance and we, the White Pieces, have been waiting for!"

"I'm looking for the White Queen. Where can I find her?"

The Knight's eyes seemed to sadden.

"Me thinks you had better follow me. I shall escort you to the castle of the White King. He will explain to thee what has occurred."

Without another word, the White Knight began to glide away over the board-ground, and Batman followed. The Cheshire Cat, seemingly deciding to remain visible for a while, followed.

A pair of brutish, muscle-bound, ogre-like pieces guarded the white-washed drawbridge of the White Castle. They had buckteeth and piggy eyes, and wore helmets surrounded in a circle by small, rectangular ornaments, like a crown.

"The White Rooks," Cheshire whispered.

"Avast!" called the White Knight. "I bring the Savior, promised us by the oracular Caterpillar, and the Cheshire Cat, his guide. We demand entry, and an audience with His Majesty!"

The Rooks only nodded in reply, and clapped their thick, meaty hands together. They drawbridge fell.

"This way," said the Knight, and led the cat and the Caped Crusader into the castle.

The grounds were utterly bare...save for a large, silvery guillotine in the very center of the place.

Inside the Palace, there was only one room: the throne room. The White King sat upon a large, white cushioned throne with a silver frame, decorated with a cross. Beside him was an empty throne, exactly like his, but decorated with a diamond sphere, and in between these was a white vase with black roses in it. The King's violet eyes were hard and stony. His face was gaunt and cold, a gray-blue shade, and he carried a large, iron scepter, topped with a crystal orb, easily used as a weapon as much as for a royal decoration. He wore white robes lined in gray fur, covered in black spots, and a gray cape printed with the image of a white phoenix. On his bald head was a large, white velvet crown, rimmed in silver, with a silver cross on the top. Like all the other chess pieces, he moved about on a stone pedestal, where his feet and legs would have been.

Beside his throne stood a Bishop, dressed in a conical white hat with a notch in the side, carrying a staff. Along the pathway that lead up to the thrones was a white carpet, and on either side of this carpet were stationed the Pawns, small and cycloptic, carrying pikes in their stubby arms and blinking confusedly with their single eyes at Batman and the smiling cat.

The White Knight bowed as he reached the King on his throne, as did the cat. Batman hesitated, but did the same; it seemed protocol.

"Rise," said the King, his voice as cold as his face.

All three looked up.

"Cheshire Cat, Queenside Knight, step back."

The cat smiled wider, and took a step back. The Knight also hopped back a square.

The King nodded, and cast his gaze onto Batman.

"State your name and rank, sir."

"Batman, or Bruce Wayne."

"Well, which one is it, man?"

"Beg pardon, Majesty," purred Cheshire, "but he is both and neither."

The King sniffed distantly.

"It is not respectable to beg, cat. Nevertheless..."

The King coughed.

"Ahem...Batman, is it? What is it you wish to say?"

"I have come to see the White Queen. I need to collect her piece of the Jabberwock's Eyestaff, so that I may defeat the Queen of Hearts."

The King's eyes softened, and all the bishops and pawns bowed their heads slightly.

"My Queen," he said slowly, "was captured only two days ago by the Red Chessmen. They have also taken possession of her piece of the Eyestaff."

Batman heard Cheshire curse under his breath.

"We have been planning a counterattack, so that we might recapture my bride before her execution, tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, my son, the White Kingside Knight, was killed yesterday, and has yet to resurface. Our Queenside Bishop also fell with him. Without a second Knight and another bishop, our plan has no hope for success."

The King was silent for about fifteen seconds.

"If you hold allegiance to the White pieces and the Resistance against the Red Queen..."

"Red Queen?"

"The Queen of Hearts," Cheshire whispered. "That is her name in these parts."

"Ahem! As I was saying, if you hold allegiance to us, I shall gladly place you in the place of my fallen son, and – if he will remain for but a moment – the cat in the Bishop's place."

The cat cocked his head to one side.

Batman mulled the decision in his head.

_No choice at all..._

"I shall help."

The King smiled faintly.

"We meet in the war room, downstairs, in twenty minutes. My Bishop shall show you to your rooms. Do not be late."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter XVI: Time Keeps on Talking**

"Are you certain that he will be coming here?"

"Of course. Your army holds the White Queen prisoner, after all, and he needs her piece of the Eyestaff."

"He shall never touch it. I keep it on my person at all times," said the Red King, pulling an extending, golden rod from his pocket with a small knob at one end from his robes. He was dressed in clothes similar to the White King, but with different colors: his robes were red, with black fur lining, and his cape was deep black, printed with an image of a scarlet phoenix. His crown still had a silver rim and cross, but was filled in by red cloth. His scepter was topped with a black gemstone, and his skin was greenish-gray.

"So, he'll have to engage in a battle with you to get it?" ascertained the Mad Hatter, raising an eyebrow.

"Indeed."

"And what if he wins...?"

"He won't."

Hatter pointed the ornamented part of his cane at the Red King warningly.

"Know this, Red King: your half of the Chessland armies here in the Pale Realm are the Queen's strongest footsoldiers. You have to be, in order to continue the everlasting war here between you and your older brother. If you are defeated, he and his forces will have a full year advance, with no holds, against us, which will considerably weaken us in our war against the Resistance."

"Yes...my dear, dear brother," grumbled the Red King. "Mr. Think-It-Over-For-Weeks-Before-I-Act. Humph! War is not about endless thinking and plotting, or constant strategy forming...the fool must either improve this deficit or die. I barely think my battle plans out at all, and I have always come out with the upper hand. War is about taking risks. Any Chessman on my side would say the same."

He chuckled wryly.

"Know _this,_ Mad Hatter," he went on. "I have no fear of him, or of the Queen, or of this Batman you speak of."

The Hatter smiled darkly.

_I sincerely doubt that._

"Just remember, King, that the Voracious Centipede has already been defeated. The insect armies of the Wonderland Woods and the Vale of Tears are out of the Queen's...er...hands. My treasured Automatons and your Chessman may very well be the last defense left, aside from her dunderheaded Card Guards."

"Don't forget her 'pet.'"

Hatter shivered slightly.

"How can I? I repaired him..."

He shook his head and tipped his hat to the Red King.

"Just be on your guard, that's all I'm saying," said the Mad Hatter, and, twirling his cane between his fingers, he turned on his heel and prepared to leave the throne room of the Red Castle.

"Hatter?"

The Hatter stopped.

"Yes, King?"

The Red King frowned slightly; a ruler of the Pale Realm only, he still felt irked when not referred to a royal title.

"May I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course."

"This...'Batman' you speak of...do you think he can really overthrow the Queen?"

Hatter smirked.

"No."

"Then...who do you think is?"

Hatter grinned sneakily, before resorting to a perfect poker face.

"With luck, nobody."

"Or a dead body."

Hatter scowled, his unblinking eyes narrowing ominously. The King's face contorted into a strange blend of both hasty apology and the slightest dash of sympathy.

"I wasn't implying what you think I was."

"It no longer matters. She is gone. There is no way to bring her back."

"But...surely, with your mechanical genius-"

_**"SHUT UP!"**_ roared the Mad Hatter, swinging his cane around and knocking a red vase of black roses to the ground. His silver eyes were filled with malice and a sense of pain, and a gloved finger was pointed threateningly at the Red King, shaking slightly in the former milliner's rage. The King, who had been standing, sat back down, stunned by the outburst, on his throne.

"Don't you even DARE to say such a thing! NEVER say it! Don't even _think_ it! You're taunting me, aren't you?"

"No, I...I was simply..."

"YES! YES, YOU ARE! YOU ARE _TAUNTING_ ME! And _why?_ _WHY?_ I'll tell you why! Because, even with my genius, my skill, my expertise, my intellect, my ability, I have _no power over her!_ To rebuild Alice...? It would be like trying to light a burned out star! Not even I can do that! Bah!"

And with a snarl, Hatter turned and stormed away, slamming the door to the throne room behind him, leaving a confused and bewildered Red King in his wake.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter XVII: The Men on the Chessboard**

Batman and the Cheshire Cat walked down the stairs from the throne room, heading for the war room.

"You seem deep in thought, as usual."

"Why did you agree to play the Bishop?"

Cheshire shrugged.

"At the time, it seemed the like the craziest thing to do," he hissed.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Does anything?"

A pair of pawns guarded the door to the war room.

"HALT!" they said in chorus, crossing their pikes. "Name and rank."

Cheshire sighed irritably.

"Please, Space Five and Space Seven, we have no time-"

_"Name and rank."_

Cheshire sighed again.

"Pawns," he muttered. "All about rules. Cheshire Cat, Temporary Bishop."

"Batman, Temporary Knight."

The pawns blinked their singular eyes and then uncrossed their weapons.

"Proceed," they chorused.

"Thank you," growled Cheshire, and entered the room.

Batman followed.

"Ah, you've come," recognized the White King. He stood around a glass table (or, at least, it looked like glass) with his the rest of the White Chessmen. "Here, allow me to show you my plan..."

The pair approached the table. An image...a hologram, it seemed, appeared on the table. It was a castle, exactly like the White Castle but made of red stone and with a mahogany drawbridge.

"Now," said the King. "Here is my current strategy: the Red Castle will hold the execution of our Queen at 12:00 tomorrow. My Pawns – Eighth and First Space – have informed me of their positions at the assembly. As per procedure, the Red Rooks will be guarding the castle drawbridge. Red Pawns will be placed atop each of the Red Castle battlements. The Red Knights will be watching the assembly from these stands – here – along with the remaining four Pawns, and the Bishops will bring her in. As for my brother, the Red King, he shall stand here..."

The King pointed to a small platform held above the guillotine in the courtyard.

"...To overview the atrocity. Now, we will come in from the back. Batman...I understand you have a grappling line among your tricks?"

"Yes."

"You shall scale one of the towers with that line. As for your companion, Cheshire, he will vanish himself up onto the second. Take out the Pawns stationed their quietly, and make sure you aren't seen by the other Pawns or any of the pieces in the courtyard.

"By whatever means necessary, bring up Pawns Four and Three. They'll go along the battlement alleys and take out the other Red Pawns. My Bishop will head around the Castle Moat and take out the Red Rooks at that point. I shall send a single Rook and the Queenside Knight to help you in the courtyard.

"The ultimate objective is simple: rescue the White Queen, and place my brother in checkmate. Any questions?"

"No," purred Cheshire.

The other pieces and party members present all gave a similar answer.

Except Batman.

"What is your place?"

The King stared at him as if he'd gone mad.

"You DO know how to play chess, I hope?" purred the Cheshire Cat.

"I said I do."

"When the King is captured, the game goes to the other side. The Kings are, therefore, not meant for battle...just battle planning."

"Exactly," said the White Knight. "To send His Majesty to the Assembly would be madness!"

_...Ah._

"We leave at 10:00 tomorrow...and then the game is on."


	18. Chapter 18

Notes: This chapter is, for the most part, a flashback scene. I've taken inspiration for the flashbacks largely from _The Dark Knight Returns_ and _Batman Begins_, with a bit of myself poured into the mix. This chapter in particular is a good example. There will be some quotes from both in the flashbacks, but none are based entirely on either one. And so, now that that has been settled...

**Chapter XVIII: Down We Go...**

"Watch this, dad!"

A young boy with black hair and piercing eyes ran across his yard. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and black shorts. His skin was fair, and a bright smile graced his face. The sun, in the distance, was just starting to

"Watch this, dad...faster than a jackrabbit!"

The boy ran after a white jackrabbit with gray spots that darted away from him, dodging right and left.

Meanwhile, his father, a strong, tall man in a fine looking business suit with eyes and hair exactly like his son's, watched.

"Watch it, Bruce...you might fall over! Come on; it's time to eat."

"Just watch! Just watch! I can run faster than this jackrabbit!"

The rabbit ducked behind a bush. Bruce followed...

"Come here...come here...!"

WHOMMP.

The ground collapsed beneath his feet.

Bruce screamed, as a void opened up before him...

And grunted, landing in what felt like mud.

Bruce looked around.

It was so dark...no light, save what came from the hole above...

Voices...someone was coming...

Then came a sharp hiss from somewhere in the dark, followed by a series of squeaks.

Bruce, terrified, looked over to the source of the noise.

A pair of bright, reddish-brown eyes appeared.

Followed by another.

And another.

And still more.

Then, suddenly, like a black wind, all the eyes flew at him.

_Bats!_

What must have been over a hundred bats flew at the boy, their wings slapping at him as they flew by, spiraling upwards and out of the hole.

The voices were drowned out by the beating of the wings...

_Help...bats...hate bats...!_

Outside, Thomas Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler, watched as the bat's spiraled away into the twilight air.

They looked down, shining an old flashlight down into the abyss.

"Bruce?"

A small boy lay in the mud of the cave, shivering in fear...

"Quite a fall, Master Bruce," called Alfred.

_**"Wake up."**_

"Wake up!"

A slap came from nowhere.

Batman grunted, striking out on instinct, knocking something away as he rose.

He looked around.

_I've fallen asleep in a dream...?_

_ How does that even work?_

"What was that for?"

He turned to see the Cheshire Cat, glaring at him with annoyance.

"Sorry."

"So, seeing as you've actually managed to wake up – a great success, by the way – may I ask if you still think of all this as some sort of illusion?"

"It isn't real...but I'm beginning to rethink that."

Cheshire smirked.

"What...what happened?"

"You were shaking and whimpering in your sleep," said the cat, flatly. "Seriously, I thought more highly of you. Rabbit never even did that."

Batman did not answer.

"What's the time?"

Cheshire chuckled at hearing the familiar edge come back into the Dark Knight's voice.

"Almost 10:00. We're due in the throne room in about fifteen minutes."

Batman nodded.

"Check."

Cheshire smiled wider. Bright red gums were now visible.

"I think you've about summed up the situation," he purred.


	19. Chapter 19

Notes: Our second battle chapter. This is a long one, so that you all know. Hopefully it isn't TOO long...I'd hate to ramble. Anyway...

**Chapter XIX: Checkmate!**

Ten o'clock.

At last.

Batman, the Cheshire Cat, and a small team of White Chessmen (the White Knight, the White Bishop, a Rook, and two Pawns) hurried across the Chessland ground. The purple sky, once a dark, plum color, turned lavender in tone...the equivalent of morning in the Pale Realm.

The Red Castle was soon in sight. Ducking under a bridge that lead up to the front of the imposing structure, they avoided detection from the Rooks guarding the drawbridge.

"Fourth Space, Knight, Rook!" Batman commanded. "Go around the left side; we'll meet you at the back of the Castle. "Cheshire, Third Space, and the Bishop will come with me, around the right side. Go!"

These instructions were followed without difficulty.

At the back of the castle, all that blocked direct entry was a moat of red liquid.

_Smells like copper..._

_ This moat is filled with blood._

_ Great..._

Above them, the Pawns at the back battlements were easily seen, their bloodstained pikes held at their sides. Their bald, one-eyed heads were turned down, their attention thoroughly consumed by the commotion heard in the courtyard.

_The Execution Assembly..._

_ We need to act fast._

"Cheshire?"

"On it."

The cat vanished, reappearing in the left-hand tower, perched behind the pawn on that side. With lightning-speed, he sunk his teeth into the Chessman's neck, and disappeared again.

He reappeared on the ground, dropping the dead pawn into the crimson moat.

"Your turn," he purred to Batman.

Batman flipped out a bat-o-rang and flung it up at the remaining Pawn – the idiotic Cyclops had seen nothing – who instantly crumbled like shattered stone at the blow.

"Capital," whispered the White Knight.

Batman ignored him, tossing up a grappling line and beginning to climb, followed by the Fourth Space Pawn and the White Knight. Cheshire perched onto the small shoulders of the Third Space Pawn, and the two swirled out of view, reappearing on the other battlement.

As this went on, the Bishop went back around, nodding to the Knight and the Rook.

In one powerful leap, the barbaric Rook jumped across the moat and stood flat against the walls. Up above, the fighters in the battlements ducked down, watching the other Pawns across the way.

"Our move," chorused the Pawns in a whisper, and, hunched down, glided away across the tower alleys to meet the Red Pawns.

Down in the courtyard, the Red King was closing a speech he had been delivering to his followers.

"Today," he said, "We break the Whites! When this guillotine severs the head of their Queen, we will prepare a conquest of their Castle itself! With the death of my foolish brother and his equally dumb wife, we, the Reds, will have total control of the Chessland!"

"Won't they come back?" Batman whispered to the Knight.

"No; were the enemy to slay both the King and the Queen, no White will be resurrected again. Magic, you know."

_I don't know._

"Bring in the prisoner!" bellowed the Red King.

The Red Bishops entered the courtyard, carrying the struggling White Queen between them. She wore a crown like her husband's, but with a crystal orb on its top. Her face was thin and pale, but remarkably beautiful. She wore a white shawl and gown, contrasted by the armored bracelets on her hands, covering her upper arms and the tops of her hands, but leaving her dainty fingers exposed.

"Unhand me!" she snapped. "Let go! Let go!"

"If we do not act fast, Her Majesty is surely doomed!" hissed the White Knight.

_Not on my watch._

The Red Bishops dragged the White Queen onto a bench, placed beneath the guillotine blade. They flung her onto the bench, binding her hands directly out to the sides, wrists tied to the bench legs in loops.

The Queen's demeanor changed from enraged to horrified as she stared up at the guillotine's sharp edge.

"No...no!"

One of the Red Bishops retreated to the crowd in the stands, while the other went up to a lever on the guillotine, and turned to its King for the signal.

"On three," ordered the Red King. "One..."

_Come on, Bishop..._

"Two..."

The King never reached "three."

Suddenly, the drawbridge dropped, and the Red Rooks lay, dead, covered in burn marks upon its wood.

The White Bishop jumped over the thuggish bodies of the ogres, the orb of his staff crackling with electricity. Immediately after, the wall on the opposite side, collapsed, and with a fearsome roar, the White Rook came in. The Red Pawns jumped in surprise as the White Pawns popped up, and stabbed each of their opponents through the eyeball. They fell apart instantly.

"White Pieces!" yelled the Red King. "Drop the blade!"

The White Queen screamed as the guillotine fell...

Then, suddenly, a jagged, curved blade curved down, jamming itself between the guillotine blade and the wood of the bench, stopping it inches from the Queen's throat.

The Queen sighed with relief.

All eyes, be they of the Reds or the Whites, turned upwards.

The silhouette of a giant bat glided down from the towers.

"BATMAN!" roared the Red King. "KILL HIM!"

The Red Bishops activated their staffs, electricity crackling, before firing bolts of the deadly energy up at the oncoming Caped Crusader. Batman easily moved away from these, spinning as he dropped down on the Red Bishop by the guillotine, knocking him down.

"That's our cue," Cheshire hissed to the White Knight, and the pair materialized in the Red Courtyard.

"ATTACK!" cried the White Knight.

Cheshire jumped onto the other Red Bishop, jabbing at his eyes and arms with his claws, while the Bishop wildly tried to swat the cat away with his staff. The White Pawns ran down the stairs of the battlements, pikes held out as they nimbly hopped about, avoiding the pikes of opposing Red Pawns. The White Knight and a Red Knight were held in combat, thrusting wildly with their rapiers, while the Red Bishop that had been knocked over stood and lunged for the White Bishop, the electricity of their staffs popping and snapping as energy bolt after energy bolt was fired.

Batman untied the Queen's hands.

"Thank you," she said, her voice as cold and regal as her husband's. She flicked a wrist, and a claymore materialized in her hand.

"I cannot summon my weapon without proximity to another White piece," she said. "Now I can join in the fight. You go for the Red King."

Without another word, the White Queen leapt into the fray, slashing at the second Red Knight, who quickly blocked the attack with his shield.

Batman jumped up and climbed onto the platform where the Red King stood. The blood-clothed monarch glared at the Dark Knight with deadly purple eyes.

"So," he said with a soft growl. "You must be the Resistance's so-called Savior. My brother was a fool to save you. And he claims that _I_ am reckless!"

"Surrender."

"I had hoped for a more original response," sighed the Red King, and swung his scepter like a mace. Batman moved out of the way.

"The King's aren't meant to do the fighting."

"Only in emergencies," corrected the Red King. "Seeing as I am in Check, this is most definitely an emergency."

The King swung again. Batman snapped out another bat-o-rang, jabbing it into the King's left arm. The King yelped and jumped back. He pulled the blade from his arm and snarled, the blood mingling with the red of his robes.

"You are well equipped, but, as King, I have tricks of my own."

The King held his scepter out, and a small slot appeared in the jeweled top. Out of it shot a bright orange blade, in the shape of a playing-card diamond. It cut into Batman's shoulder. He hissed in pain; the blade _burned_.

_Heated metal blades..._

Batman somersaulted out of the way as two more burning blades shot out. As he landed, he tossed a small, green capsule at the Red King's face.

Tear gas.

The King cried out in anger and desperation, firing blindly with one last, diamond-shaped blade. It stuck into the platform floor, burning the stone when it landed. Batman lunged forward, grabbing onto the scepter in the King's hands.

"I've had just about enough of you already!" sneered the Red King, his violet eyes holding a crazed look. The orb of the scepter crackled with electricity, just as with the Bishops' staffs. The King pushed the electrified gem into Batman's chest, and the shock knocked the Dark Knight down. The King turned off the power and raised the scepter above his head. Batman lashed out with one more bat-o-rang, knocking the scepter out of the ruler's hand, and then caught the Chessman's weapon in his other hand. He stood, leveling the scepter's gem at the King's heart.

"Checkmate."

"You wish!"

A mad, desperate mood seemed to overcome the Red King, and he jumped from the platform...

Right into the path of the dueling Red and White Knight.

There was a scream of pain as the rapiers of both Knights stabbed straight through his stomach and his spine.

Then he fell in a heap as the startled Chessmen removed their weapons from the defeated King, and crumbled into dust.

One by one, all of the remaining Red Pieces seemed to vanish into thin air.

The White Queen smiled fiercely as the Red Knight she'd been battling vanished.

"Checkmate!" she laughed.

All of the White Pieces cheered, raising their fists in victory. The Cheshire Cat, nonchalant as usual, sat off to the side, licking some blood off of his paws.

Batman dropped the Red King's scepter, and prepared to jump down from the platform...

When a shadow swept over him...of a tall, hunched over figure, in a tall, tall hat.

He turned quickly...but not quickly enough!

THWACK! Something thick and jagged slammed into his cowled skull.

As he fell to the floor, he saw a pair of shoes in spats, tapping impatiently.

Just before he passed out, he heard a dark, raspy voice chant: _"Up above the world you fly, like a tea tray in the sky..."_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter XX: **_**Tempus Fugit**_

"Bruce? Bruce? Are you all right?"

A small boy opens his eyes to see the face of his mother, fair and warm, wearing a lovely red dress with black feathers on its fringe, carrying a purse decorated with images of red and white roses.

"M-Mom?"

"Yes, Bruce. Are you okay?"

"He's fine, Miss Wayne," says Alfred the butler, coming in, smiling slightly, turning up the corners of his pencil-thin moustache.

"I'm okay."

"Well...all right. Do you still want to go to the theater tomorrow?"

A boy chuckles softly; just like his mother to worry about the next day before it comes.

"Yeah. What are we going to go see?"

"A musical production of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_. It's sponsored by your father's fine-arts program."

A boy rolls his eyes.

_A kids' story._

"Okay."

"Okay," smiles his mother, and kisses his forehead.

_**"Get up."**_

__Batman groaned as he opened his eyes. He placed a hand on his head...it hurt...

"Ch-Cheshire Cat?"

"Wakey-wakey, Batsy," purred Cheshire.

Batman groaned again and tried to stand...

He was strapped down to a table, inside a bare, dark jail cell.

"Don't move," growled the cat. "I'll take care of these..."

"Where am I?"

"The Mad Hatter's Domain. You've been unconscious for almost two days...you're lucky to be in one piece."

Batman sighed.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"No. Not in the slightest. You remember the Skool?"

"Yeah..."

"Take that, and double it in horror."

The straps were sliced open, and Batman stood. He reached...

No belt.

"Looking for this?" purred Cheshire, and snapped his "fingers." The utility belt suddenly appeared in its rightful place about Batman's waist.

"You might also require this," said the cat, and held out a small, extending gold rod.

"The first piece of the Jabberwock's Eyestaff?"

"How astute you are. I pinched out of the Red King's crumbly remains before I came here. I've been searching these laboratories all this time...I saw things."

The cat shuddered.

"What kind of things?"

"You'll learn."

The cat swirled out of view, and then reappeared beside the cell door.

"We should hurry," he hissed. "The Hatter always comes down to check on his experiments and prisoners on this floor at 5:00; we're running low on time."

Batman nodded and stood, still rubbing his sore head. The cat jammed a claw through the keyhole and opened the cell door. He nodded his head slightly to inform Batman to exit first.

As the Dark Knight left the cell, the Cheshire Cat shut the cell door behind them. What must have been at least fifty clocks, of varying shapes and sizes, lined the walls, each placed between the cell doors.

Batman did not bother to check what was inside the cells. Not yet.

"What now?"

"We find the next piece of the Jabberwock's Eyestaff, of course."

"Which is where...?"

The cat grinned darkly.

"As Luck would have it, it is here, somewhere in the Hatter's twisted realm of blood and gears."

_But...I thought it was in the possession of a Resistance leader..._

"The Hatter," the cat purred, as if it had read his mind, "was, if you recall, a former member of the Resistance, who built us weapons. Before he betrayed us, the second piece of the Eyestaff was entrusted to him. Clear?"

A nod was the only response.

"Good. Now, I suggest we head for the Hatter's Tea Lab."

"Tea Lab?"

"At 6:00 daily, the Hatter goes there to take his tea, and check on his very special, and particularly gruesome experiments held there. Like a watchmaker obsessed with infinitesimal amounts of seconds, he seeks an improbable form of perfection; he will turn everyone and everything in Wonderland into his Automaton, or kill them in the process."

There was no reply this statement. Only a cold, grim silence.

Then...

_Clip, clap, clip, clap..._

"He's coming," hissed the Cheshire Cat. "Quick...there's an elevator down the passage. There are many, for that matter: the elevators only rise one floor up."

With that, the cat darted off. Batman followed, hand on his belt, just in case.

As they vanished around the corner, the Mad Hatter entered the corridor, a pair of pliars in one hand, his cane in the other.

_"Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle..."_

Hatter came up to Batman's cell, humming quietly...

He froze.

_Empty!_

_ How could he have...?_

Then he realized the answer, and snarled.

"Curse you, Cheshire..."

The Hatter flung the pliars to the floor and ran to the opposite wall, slamming his hand onto a red button, hidden beside a cell door.

"ATTENTION!" he shouted, his angry, commanding voice terrifying to hear as it sounded through the laboratories. "Automaton Guards, prisoner 999 has escaped! Subject is armed and very dangerous; recapture him by any means! Destroy anyone you find with him, but only tranquilize him...I want him alive! And Tweedles? Get up here, to floor 25. WE NEED TO TALK."

Somewhere in the Mad Hatter's laboratories, Tweedledee and Tweedledum shivered.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter XXI: The Clock's Running Down**

Batman and the Cheshire Cat heard the Hatter's announcement rattle across the labs of his domain. As they popped up on floor 24, a reception committee awaited them.

Two Automaton guards, wearing spiked helmets with visors, their bodies completely robotic, waited for them. They moved around on caterpillar tracks, with thick, rust-red torsos covered in armored plates. Their arms ended in short, stubby cannons, and the clockwork mechanisms inside them grinded audibly.

Behind their visors could still be seen very human, unblinking, gray eyes.

The Automaton raised their arms mechanically, and opened fire. What appeared to be black ceramic teapots shot out. Batman dodged to the side, while Cheshire vanished from sight.

The teapots shattered on the wall. Green, acidic liquid splattered against the surface, leaving scorch marks where it hit.

_Acid-filled teapots._

_ What will he think of next?_

The Automatons rumbled forward, making snake-like hissing sounds as they moved.

Batman leapt over the head of one of the Automaton, stabbing a long, sharp bat-o-rang blade into the second, directly into the triangle printed on its torso. The cyborg spluttered and then fell, still and cold. The first Automaton showed no recognition of its fallen comrade, but fired another teapot from one of its cannons. Batman ducked quickly, and tossed an explosive capsule. The capsule lodged in the visor gaps of the Automaton, and its body flew apart in a flash of flame and steel shrapnel.

Batman raced down the corridor. At every turn, an Automaton guard would bar his way, but they were easily dispatched with a bat-o-rang or an explosive capsule.

_This is getting us nowhere fast...I need to find an alternate route, one where I won't be so easily spotted..._

As he felled yet another Automaton, a catwalk above him caught his attention.

_Now, why didn't I notice that earlier?_

_ Ah, well. When opportunities arise..._

He jumped up, catching hold of the catwalk railing, and climbed up onto the catwalk. On his hands and knees, he crept across the catwalk, trying to make as little noise as possible.

As he neared the end of the corridor, he found a door, continuing down a ramp to the next floor, still on the catwalk.

_This may not be as good a spot as I thought...but it's better than nothing._

Snapping out a bat-o-rang, he opened the door and continued down the ramp to the next floor.

Automatons scouted about the floor, garbling in an electronic, unintelligible code...their "language," for all means and purposes.

Batman moved carefully across the catwalk, silent as a mouse...

Then he stopped.

Through the barred window edges beside him, he was able to see into the cells on his side of the wall.

A Gnome, topless and shaved totally bald, was strapped to a dissection table, its head held in place by a hooked brace. On its chest was a sort of strange generator. The creature was sobbing pitifully...then a shock emitted from the mini-generator, and the demented Gnome began to laugh wildly, thrashing about, cutting its scalp and tugging on its restraints.

In the cell beside it, another Gnome was held in a machine, shaped like a giant vice, by shackles and thick chains. The creature seemed unconscious, staring out with a glazed look...

Then the vice pressed down. For a second, the tortured Gnome did nothing. Then the haziness left its eyes, and it screamed in pain.

In the cell beside this experiment, a Gnome was seen, halfway to being an Automaton, its legs having already been replaced with the caterpillar tracks. The thing shrieked and wailed, slamming itself into one wall, then another, before reaching for the door...and stopping only about a foot short, due to a thick rope that was tied around its neck, like a dog's collar and leash. The Half-Automaton would roll backwards, gasping, and then continue the cycle again.

"These creatures cannot be saved right now, Bruce," purred Cheshire. "The only way to set the ones still sane and stable enough to be moved is to defeat the Mad Hatter and destroy the Queen."

"...You were right...about how horrible..."

"Batsy, you're beginning to sound like Rabbit. Control; we have a staff piece to locate."

"Right. The Tea Lab, yes?"

"Yes. There are two very certain characters there who might be able to help us locate the Hatter's piece of the Jabberwock's Eyestaff. Note the word _might._"

"How far down is it?"

"Several floors more."

Batman nodded, before heading down another ramp.

"This area seems devoid of Automaton...I'm going to take the direct route."

"Well, it is certainly the quickest path...just be careful."

Cheshire vanished.

Meanwhile, back up on floor 25, the Tweedles stood, shaking like ragdolls, before their master.

_We're dead, we're dead, we're dead..._

_"Idiots!"_ he hissed. _"Imbeciles! Dolts! Numbskulls!"_

He conked each one over the head with his cane. The twins were secretly glad he hadn't used blades or bullets on them instead.

"You two were supposed to keep an eye on him!"

"B-but...ye tol' us to watch o'er pris'ner 666, too!"

"Not to mention th' other experiments, doctor!"

Hatter half-sighed, half-growled, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, his eyes narrowing so much they almost seemed to close. (Almost.)

_The Lion and the Unicorn...I should have used the Lion and the Unicorn..._

"Look, that blasted Bat is more important than anything else here at the moment. He should have been under constant surveillance. I'm giving you both one last chance: find him and bring him to me, dead or alive. He's probably heading downstairs. Take the shortcut to floor 20 and wait there; I'll check the floors above and rendezvous with you bunglers. If he gets there before I do...well, use your imaginations!"

Hatter pushed the twins away and headed toward an empty cell. He pressed a button on the lock.

"Do not fail," he growled, just before the ceiling opened up above him and dropped a tube over him, lifting him up and out of the passage.

Tweedledee and Tweedledum gulped simultaneously.

"Dee? I think it's time to try out our new features."

"Dum, I'm thinkin' th' exact same thing..."


	22. Chapter 22

Notes: Our third battle chapter. For today's menu: Homemade Tweedledum with a side of Tweedledee!

**Chapter XXII: When Logic and Proportion Hath Fallen...**

Batman stalked down the corridor of floor 20. His hands were empty, but were positioned directly over his utility belt.

_I wish that accursed cat had told me just how many floors down "several" was..._

On the bright side, he figured, there seemed to be no Automaton on this level...and the prisoners here were relatively silent.

Hopefully the silence was a good thing.

But, then, he still couldn't get Rabbit's last few words out of his head: _quiet, around here, is never a good thing._

As he approached the elevator at the end of the corridor (he still had no idea why they only travelled one floor at a time), the Tweedles popped out, arms crossed, wide mouths twisted upwards in gruesome grins.

"Coo! Looky 'ere, Dum! It's Mr. What's-'is-name from th' split personality ward! Doctor's favorite lunatic..."

"Wayne, ain't it? 'Oo let 'im out, then? Aw, well..."

"'E'll need more medicine...STRONG medicine..."

"T'ink 'e's got anythink to eat?"

"Doubt it: 'e never finishes 'is own grub back 'ome..."

Here the Tweedle licked his lips with a fat, red, rubbery-looking tongue.

"Although," he said slyly, "if ye 'ad any meat on yer, ye'd make a delectable dish."

_Why does everything around here want to eat me?_

"Where's the Mad Hatter?"

"Doctor's out o' touch, I'm 'fraid," shrugged Tweedledum. "Which means, o' course, until 'e gits 'ere, ye'll have to play wit' us."

In response to this challenge, the Dark Knight whipped out two bat-o-rangs.

Tweedledee smiled coyly and wagged a pudgy finger...

...Before reaching down his throat, gagging, and then pulling up a sharpened, wooden sword.

Tweedledum followed suit, pulling out of his mouth a purple umbrella with a sharpened metal point.

Batman stared.

_This place gets weirder and weirder..._

"Surprised?" chuckled Tweedledee. "Tha's not all we can do!"

He pulled up his shirt, revealing a long, white scar across his belly.

He reached _through_ the scar, as if it was nothing but clay, and pulled out of his belly a small, clockwork replica of himself, carrying a flamethrower.

To further the morbidity, Tweedledum did the exact same thing.

"Get 'im!" bellowed the Tweedles, and the clockwork miniatures rushed forward, rattling and chattering. A jet of flame scorched Batman's cape. He jumped away to avoid further damage.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," he heard Cheshire whisper in his ear. His head was floating beside him.

"If you don't have any _useful_ advice..."

"Use their size against them!" hissed the Cheshire Cat, offended, and disappeared again.

Batman jumped back again, as another jet of flame was shot at him. He threw a bat-o-rang, slicing off the clockwork Tweedledum's hands. He picked the startled, toy-like clone up and threw it at the miniature Tweedledee. The clockwork dolls became tangled up in each other, and struggled to get up, but couldn't stand in time, as the immense body of the tall Tweedledee tripped on them and fell, crushing them beneath his girth.

Tweedledum – shorter than his twin, but by no means less dangerous – lunged with his umbrella blade. Batman dodged, grabbing the umbrella case in his palms, before twisting the weapon out of Tweedledum's grasp.

"Oy! Give it back!" roared Tweedledum, and punched the Caped Crusader in the chest, using the bat-shaped symbol emblazoned across it as a target. Batman recoiled, and found himself engaged in a tug-of-war for the umbrella blade. He got around the back of Tweedledum, twisting the fat man's arm behind his back.

Tweedledee, snarling like a wild beast, tramped forward, and swung his wooden sword. Batman ducked to avoid the sharpened edge, and turned, using Tweedledum as a living shield.

This plan did not work as well as he had hoped.

Both Tweedles smirked. Suddenly, the propeller on Tweedledum's rainbow-striped beanie turned, and Batman and the short twin were lifted into the air. Tweedledum spun in mid-air, and Batman fell to the floor. Tweedledee laughed and raised his sword...

Tweedledum began to laugh, as well, until his propeller sputtered and he found himself dropping down.

As Tweedledum fell, so did the blade of Tweedledee's sword.

Tweedledum let out a short scream, and then fell dead, sliced clean in two from the gash in his belly. His innards were hollow, save for a trio of clockwork miniatures.

All of the mini-Tweedles were programmed to fire their flamethrowers at the first thing they saw.

This just so happened to be Tweedledee.

The resulting sound was ghastly.

Within seconds, Tweedledee lay on the floor, his skin no more than a gooey, rubbery, flesh-toned puddle...the Tweedles had been nothing more than toys themselves.

The clockwork clones ran down, and fell, unable to work unless their dials were turned. The battle was over.

"Huh. Bad timing," rasped a voice. "Pity; reliable help is so difficult to find these days."

Batman looked back, and then up.

The Mad Hatter stood on the catwalk above. He eyed the remains of his henchmen dismally, and then flashed a very fake, falsely-friendly smile.

Batman felt his fists clench. He'd recognize that zodiac chessboard hat anywhere...

_This is the...MAN that killed Rabbit..._

"Your escape was impeccably timed, Mr. Wayne," Hatter congratulated. "Follow me: you're just in time for tea!"

"I prefer to drink alone."

Hatter's face twisted only briefly into one of annoyance, but it was soon replaced by his forged smile.

"Come now, sir! No need to be so morose! It is better to drink with friends! Count me to be among them," he added, tipping his hat. "Accurately...er...I mean, _honestly_. That's the truth of the matter."

_Is it really?  
_"Oh!" Hatter gasped suddenly, clapping a thin hand to his forehead. "So sorry...I quite forgot: you and Truth are not on familiar terms."

"And you'd know?"

"Truth," Hatter said sagely, standing as straight as he could and raising a finger to emphasize his point, "is always bitter to he who fears him."

"I fear nothing."

"FALSE!" Hatter barked suddenly, his smile becoming more genuine and more fiendish. "You fear much! The creature whose visage you borrow, for example? The events, and memories of events, that have driven you into its usage? The loss of another, shall we say, red-breasted Boy Wonder? Ah, yes! You fear much!"

_Another...?_

_ Jason..._

Batman remained silent.

"Of course," Hatter went on innocently, spinning his cane. "All that _could_ be avoided..."

"How? Tell me."

Hatter smirked.

"I think that should be answered...over tea."

The Hatter banged his cane on the catwalk. Unseen to Batman, the tip pressed down on a tiny button in the shape of a teardrop.

Suddenly, the floor opened up beneath Batman's feet.

He let out a short cry of surprise as he found himself falling...


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter XXIII: Why the Hatter is Mad**

THUD.

Batman landed headfirst. He wasn't sure of where he was. He sat up, hand on his head.

_How many times have I banged this...?_

"Dorny !" cried a voice. "Wake uh! Soneone's here to release us!"

"It's just a big bat...probably worthless," yawned another.

Batman turned to the sources of the voices.

He wished he hadn't.

"My God..." he murmered as he looked upon the tortured forms of the March Hare and the Dormouse.

"'Lease," pleaded the Hare. "Undo us thron these contra'tions!"

"Or you could give us tea, if you prefer," mumbled the Dormouse, licking his lips with a short, pink tongue and seemingly talking in his sleep.

"What happened?"

"It was the Hatter!" sobbed March. "Athter he and Old Tine 'atched uh, he went quite nad, ith I do say so..."

"I warned you," purred Cheshire, swirling into view.

The Dormouse was jolted awake by the needle by its tail. He took one look at the Cheshire Cat and panicked, struggling violently in his restraints.

"Catcatcatcatcatcatccat!" he wailed, and went on for almost a minute...before passing out cold.

The March Hare sighed miserably.

"Hatter's nedicines," he explained.

"These...these are the March Hare and the Dormouse," whispered Batman, turning to the Cheshire Cat, who nodded curtly.

"Correct. It appears that Hatter plans to make them into special soldiers."

Batman gazed upon the Hare and the sleeping Dormouse.

_His friends...what could drive anyone...?_

"Bruce?"

"...Yes, Cheshire?"

"The Eyestaff."

"Right. March?"

"Hm?" whimpered the Hare.

"Where is the second piece of the Jabberwock's Eyestaff?"

"N-not a clue."

_Darn it._

"Well...they aren't the only ones here, you know," purred Cheshire.

"The Tweedles have been destroyed, the Gnomes are deranged, and I highly doubt the Mad Hatter himself will tell me."

Cheshire smiled a bit wider, tilting his head slightly. Batman paused.

"There's someone else here?"

Cheshire nodded.

"Uh-huh. I don't know who, though."

"G-Grython."

Both Batman and the Cheshire Cat turned with a start.

"Grython?"

"I...I think he means Gryphon," Cheshire hissed, awestruck. "Do you, Hare?"

The March Hare nodded, then groaned as the action caused the hook in his lip to cut in a bit deeper.

"Who is Gryphon?"

"The Resistance's strongest warrior," Cheshire replied, sounding amazed. "We sent him off to run a mission at the Skool, and no one's heard from him since. Rabbit and I were certain that he'd been killed!"

"W-w-well, he's here," said the Hare. "A thew thloors uh. Hatter kee's hin in a s'ecial cell, 'ut only he knows how to get in. I'n 'retty sure he'll know where the Eye...Eyestath is, too."

"All the more reason to help him out," Cheshire growled. "Let's not waste time."

"TIME! WASTE! WASTING TIME! TIME WASTING!" the Dormouse suddenly squeaked, electrified back into consciousness. "TIME WASTES! DON'T WASTE TIME! TIME...Time...time..."

He blacked out.

March sniffled.

"Dorny," he whimpered.

"Cheshire, can you cut the restraints?"

The cat flicked out his claws.

"I could try," he growled. "Unfortunately..."

He sheathed his claws.

"It won't do any good. Taking either of these two down will only lead them to a relatively quick – but not necessarily _painless_ – death. They'd both be too unstable."

A distant sound of footsteps echoed out. March sucked in a sharp breath. Dormy snored.

A shadow appeared in the corridor...a shadow wearing a tall hat.

"Besides," Cheshire said quickly. "It looks like time's pretty much up for rescues."

He swirled away.

The Hatter's silhouetted form appeared in the hall. He strode toward the glass doors of the rom. Batman faced his approaching enemy full on. His hands snuck down towards his belt...

_Don't try anything yet...play along at whatever game he plays. Figure out an escape..._

The door swung open. The Mad Hatter raised his arms in greeting.

"Ah! Mr. Wayne!" Hatter laughed. "You made the trip safely! I see you've met my friends, the March Hare and the Dormouse!"

Hatter clip-clapped up, until he stood directly beside Batman. He looked up at March where he hung on the rack. The Hare gulped.

"Magnificent, eh?" smiled Hatter proudly.

"Twisted."

"To each his own," shrugged the Hatter. "At any rate, they'll both be better off in the end. When I've completed my work on them, they'll be the most powerful beings in all of Wonderland...besides myself. More powerful, even, than the Queen of Hearts! But 'no pain, no gain.'"

Here the Hatter snapped his fingers. The rack lowered down into the vat of coffee, and the Hare yowled with pain as the near-boiling liquid touched his broken leg. Batman ground his teeth.

_He's going to try and psyche me out...keep calm, don't give him anything..._

"Dormy," Hatter went on, pointing at the Dormouse with his cane, "as you can see, is half done. The stronger the subject's will, the more difficult it is to sedate them and then operate on them. Thankfully," he said, a dark glint in his eye, "Dormy's will was as small as the time he spent awake at our parties."

Hatter pressed the button on the table, electrifying the rodent again.

"Treacle..." mumbled the Dormouse.

"Marchy's will was always stronger than Dormy's," Hatter said, disappointedly, casting his cold, unblinking stare back towards the tormented Hare. "A couple of his limbs and a portion of his ribcage are all I've finished so far."

"These were your friends..."

"Indeed," Hatter said, waving the growled remark away. "In return for their friendship, I have decided to give them strength that neither of them ever had before. But I digress: it's time for tea!"

Here Hatter pulled the lever beside the Dormouse's table. The tea table now held two teapots, two chairs, and two cups.

"It has been so long," Hatter said. "Since I've had someone take tea with me. Marchy and Dormy cannot drink it themselves – the liquid would clog up their parts – and they refuse to try _my_ brew."

Out of the corner of his eye, Batman saw the March Hare, too frightened to speak a word, shudder.

_Scars all over his face and stomach...they don't look like operating scars..._

_Focus!_

The Mad Hatter sat down. He waved a hand to indicate that Batman do the same.

Cheshire appeared, crouched behind the vat. He nodded and vanished again.

Batman sat down at the tea table, opposite from the Hatter.

"The pot on your side is for you. This," Hatter said, tapping the teapot closest to him, "Is _my _special mix. My own invention. I'm sure you'd like it, but I'm feeling a little selfish today."

Here the Hatter proceeded to pour a quicksilver liquid into his cup.

_Mercury..._

_That probably explains a lot..._

Batman opened up the lid of his teapot.

It _looked_ like normal tea...

He poured himself a cup. Hatter smiled approvingly.

"That's better," he said in an oily voice. "Alice was hesitant, too, last time she partied with us. But who could blame here: Dormy wasn't the best cook among us..."

Here the Mad Hatter shut his mouth and took a quick sip from his mercury-sugar brew.

"The cat said that you killed her."

This was not entirely true; the cat had said nothing of the sort, but the statement helped to put the Hatter on edge, and the madman's reaction to his memories of Alice seemed to confirm the inference Batman had made on his own.

Hatter's gray, fish-like eyes glittered dangerously under his hat brim at the comment.

"The Cheshire Cat doesn't know everything."

"So he lied."

"No...yes...maybe...sort of..."

Hatter lowered his gaze.

_The tables have turned...good._

"What happened to her, then?"

Hatter looked up slightly.

"I do not speak of it anymore," he growled.

"I'm curious."

"'Curiouser and curiouser,'" the Hatter murmered in a mournful tone. He stood up, turning away. He held his arm up at a ninety degree angle, and a pocket watch flipped into his palm from somewhere in his sleeve. He squeezed.

The watch was broken...it neither ticked nor tocked.

And that's when a lightbulb went on.

"You..._loved_ her."

Hatter nodded, ever so slightly.

"...Yet you murdered her."

"Mr. Wayne," Hatter almost pleaded.

"That was what happened, wasn't it?"

The Mad Hatter turned, allowing a sliver of one silvery eye to be seen.

"I did not. Kill. Alice," he hissed. "I loved her, yes. But she only _acted_ like she loved me."

A pause.

"You want the truth, Bats? I'll give it to you. As the years went on, she and I became...attached, so to speak. For years, as this world changed form and shape, for centuries, through lunacy and enchantment, we built a relationship stronger than any either of us felt for anyone else here. It was nature, I suppose: the only other human here, after all, was that filthy Duchess and her surly Cook. They're dead, too, by the way...Poison Pepper is a tricky thing...

"Anyway, this went on for more years than even _I_ can count. Then, one day, she just...stopped coming. I still don't know why. I waited, and waited, and she never came back."

He paused.

"That's when our world began to fall apart. As it began to topple in on itself, Father Time and I patched up. I still don't remember the exact things that occurred afterward...all that I know is what I know now: everything had to be perfect. Marchy, Dormy, the Tweedles, the Gnomes...even myself, the most imperfect being here. I think it was that...that I wanted to make this world perfect for _her._ I wanted Alice to have perfection. I thought she'd come back if I made this world _PERFECT._ That included _this,_" he said, gesturing at his discolored, misshapen face and body. "Sure enough, she returned. I remember that day: when I heard that Alice was back, I couldn't wait to see her...literally. I had a troop of Automaton bring her directly here. I'd never felt happier before...or since."

His eyes shut tight.

"When she saw this place...this _me..._she begged me to release her. But...I couldn't let her go. She had to stay here...I wanted to make her see...to make her _perfect_, too. Then I realized that it was her _**imperfections**_ that made her so perfect...and I realized that I had to let her go. She no longer deserved me, nor I her. I think that's why she..."

Hatter trailed off.

"What did she do?"

The Hatter stood up a bit straighter.

"We should drink. The tea's getting cold."

"_Hatter._ What did Alice do?"

Hatter seemed to flinch...or was that just a twitch?

"She somehow managed to swipe a scalpel from somewhere, and cut her wrists. I was on my way to her room, to tell her that she could leave, to tell her that I didn't care what the Queen said...it was worth losing my head. But by the time I got there, it was too late. Alice...my dear, lovely, imperfectly perfect Alice...was dead."

A long silence followed this conclusion.

"Enough of this," the Mad Hatter said, exhaling deeply, as if nothing had happened. "The past is the past. Not even I, the Master of Time, can change it. And, besides, such thoughts are unsettling for tea time!"

Here he turned sharply toward the March Hare.

"Don't you agree, Marchy?"

The Hare shivered. Hatter smirked.

"Dormy?"

The Dormouse yawned.

Hatter giggled wickedly. Then he took his seat, raising his cup and inclining his head in toast.

"To the bloody Queen of Hearts," he proclaimed. "May she rot forever in a bottomless pit of fire."

"Here, here," Dormy mumbled in his sleep.

Batman raised his cup.

The brief, dark smile that danced over the Hatter's thin lips before he put the cup to them told him better than to drink his tea.

He put the cup just below his lips, allowing the liquid to lap at his chin, and gulped down his own saliva as a substitute. Hatter took a deep, long, mechanical swallow of his "tea."

They set their cups down at the same time.

The Hatter leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, feet on the table, smiling a patient, relaxed smile.

It faded after about thirty seconds. His face contorted in confusion, then realization, and then reluctant praise.

"Bravo, detective," he said in a monotonous rasp.

"I try."

"You know," Hatter said slowly, "I once told Alice her hair wanted cutting."

Beneath the table, the Mad Hatter's gloved hand stealthily slithered toward a small switch, hidden on the table leg...

"What's your point?"

Hatter smiled the most evil smile the Dark Knight could imagine...and that was saying something.

"Your _neck _could use a _TRIM."_

Hatter flipped the switch. Batman practically leapt out of his chair, just in time, as a buzzsaw shot out from the wall behind him, sawing the chair into dust before retreating. The Mad Hatter stood up quickly, coughing and choking on the airborne sawdust.

_Let's get out of here._

Batman, one hand over his mouth to keep the sawdust out, dashed to the glass doors of the Tea Lab. As they shut behind him, a bullet narrowly missed his ear.

"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHERE YOU RUN TO!" he heard the Mad Hatter shout. "YOU MAY BE MIGHTY IN YOUR WORLD, BUT THIS IS _MY_ DOMAIN! _AND THERE'S NO WAY OUT OF THIS!"_

Batman jumped into an elevator, sighing with a mixture of relief, sadness, and anger.

Cheshire swirled into view, perched nimbly on the handrail.

"That could have gone a lot more smoothly," he purred, flashing his trademark grin.

The only response the cat got was an irritated glare.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter XXIV: The Caged Bird**

Three elevator changes later...

"How many floors up did the March Hare say we'd find Gryphon?"

"A few," Cheshire replied.

Batman groaned.

"Are all of you so vague in your directions?"

"Well, if you'd _ask_ for specifics..."

Batman said nothing.

"Fear not...I don't think we'll have to look very long."

Just as the Cheshire Cat said this, an Automaton swung around the turn ahead of them and fired a teapot in the cat's direction. Cheshire vanished, and a well-thrown bat-o-rang sliced off the cannons from the Automaton's arms. The cyborg guard made an enraged buzzing noise, like a giant bee, and rattled forward, sparks flying from its disarmed appendages. A series of spikes shot up, appearing on its shoulder area as it charged.

The Dark Knight flung another bat-o-rang, and the Automaton fell.

"Good work!" said a voice.

Batman looked around.

_Who...?_

"Over here!"

Turning in the direction closest to the voice's source, Batman spotted a barred window, like those on the cells, but no door.

Under the window was a plate reading "666."

Cheshire appeared, propped up on his hind legs, forelegs slung on the window for balance.

"Gryphon!"

_Well, finally..._

Batman peered through the window. Gryphon was a large, peculiar beast, with the back legs, tail, and body of a lion, and the wings, head, and forelegs of a bald eagle. His golden, avian eyes were hard and fiery, his body in nearly perfect shape, except for some scars here and there; the only evidence of experimentation was a metal tube that was visible in his throat.

"Hello, Cheshire. Hello, Bruce."

"Gryphon."

"How did you get here?" questioned the cat.

"I was ambushed. The Mad Hatter must have known that I was on my way when I went to the Skool; I haven't given him a chance to do any sort of alteration to me, unless you count this..."

He pointed to the pipe in his neck.

"I imagine that stung," purred Cheshire.

"You can't imagine..."

"I think I can," was the curt response.

"I don't see any way in," Batman whispered.

"The only way into the cell is through a shortcut in Hatter's Chambers," Gryphon said. "He wanted to make sure I couldn't escape. These walls I'm surrounded by are bulletproof, bombproof, freezeproof, waterproof, clawproof, flameproof...etc., etc."

Cheshire whistled in surprise.

"Well, I'll give Hatter this: he knows who he's dealing with."

Gryphon smirked (and this was odd, you know, because he hadn't any lips).

"Do you know where I can find the Hatter's piece of the Jabberwock's Eyestaff?"

Gryphon stared.

"I thought you'd know."

Batman sighed.

_Blast it..._

"Well," Gryphon said after a while. "I don't know where it is...but I wouldn't hazard to guess that the Hatter is keeping it somewhere in his chambers. Everything precious to him – aside from his demented experiments and his plans for conquest – is kept up there."

_All the more reason to visit them._

"But be on your guard," the bird-lion added. "Hatter will probably be expecting you to head up there, for the Eyestaff if not for my sake. He's much smarter than he seems."

"So we've noticed," Cheshire growled, rolling his eyes.

"I'm just saying to be cautious: if he isn't waiting for you up there right now, he will be there shortly...and Hatter knows this place better than anyone, seeing as it is, after all, his own home."

"Where are the Hatter's Chambers?"

"In the tower, at the very top of the mansion. There's a shortcut – about where you're standing – but I don't know how to activate it."

_Let's think...if I were a mad scientist obsessed with time, who had a secret switch to get me to a room where all my precious items are, what would that switch be...?_

_ I'd say it would be a clock._

"Cheshire?"

"Mm-hm?"

"See this clock...the one next to Gryphon's cell?"

"Of course."

"It has stopped."

"...So?"

"So, why would a time-obsessed lunatic place a clock that doesn't work beside the cell of what I presume is my most valuable prisoner?"

Cheshire's eyes widened, as did his omnipresent smile.

"Because it wasn't a clock at all."

"Precisely."

"Nice deduction, Bruce. You're starting to think like me!"

"I know. It's scary."

"That makes sense," Gryphon said with a nod. "He often would complain about the clock being wrong. He'd reset it, and then the shortcut would activate."

Batman turned the hands of the clock to 6:00...

Suddenly, an iron tube shot down from the ceiling and enveloped him. A slip of iron went under his feet...

He felt himself rocketing upwards at a phenomenal speed.

Then, like an arrow hitting a dartboard, it stopped. The sudden end of the trip knocked him on his back, nearly making him collapse in the claustrophobic space.

The iron tube's "ceiling" opened up, and it vanished into the floor.

Batman found himself just outside a red door, decorated with golden spirals that ended in images of clocks.

He tried the door.

Unlocked.

Placing a hand over a bat-o-rang in his utility belt, he opened the door...


	25. Chapter 25

Notes: Our fourth Battle Chapter. The quote here is from the song _Always Running Out of Time_ by Motion City Soundtrack.

**Chapter XXV: Killing Time**

The Mad Hatter's Chambers in his tower were...surreal, to say the least. It was a huge glass dome, like an enormous glass clock case. Outside, a mobile spun, decorated with giant-sized pocket watches, gears, wheels, and coils. The wooden ramp was inscribed with images of sundials, while the floor of the chamber itself was made of simple cement. In the center of the floor was an image of a giant, black clock face, with pink-toned numbers and an hour hand in the shape of the astrological symbol for mercury. Above this, seemingly floating in mid-air, was a lantern shaped like a teapot, made from sterling silver and black diamonds. Along the ramp, and between each of the three enormous grandfather clocks that circled the chamber, were medium-sized stone fountains shaped like walruses, spilling oil rather than water from their mouths. Only one of the clocks in the chamber held a pendulum, the one directly opposite of the ramp and entrance. One of the other two held a portrait of a young woman with green eyes and dark brown hair...

_Alice..._

The other held a rack, on which was placed a golden, extending rod with a claw-like end.

The second piece of the Jabberwock's Eyestaff.

Batman approached the clock-cabinet. He found it unlocked. He took the Eyestaff, and pushed it into a compact form, before placing it in the same pouch in his utility belt where the first piece was held.

"Hatter's vanity aids you once more," purred the Cheshire Cat, swirling into view. "Now, all the staff lacks is-"

"The Jabberwock's eye," Batman finished grimly.

"Right," Cheshire confirmed, nodding. "He has two, of course, but I understand he is quite fond of them both. I doubt that Time will change his mind. Speaking of which," Cheshire added, looking around cautiously, "one wonders: where is the Hatter...?"

"RIGHT HERE, KITTY-KITTY!"

Cheshire vanished just as a bullet whizzed through the spot where his body had been. Batman backflipped away, a barrage of bullets flying at him, as the Mad Hatter slid off the ramp and into the chamber, firing his cane gun like the madman he was.

Then...CLICK. Out of bullets.

With a snarl, the Hatter flipped his cane into a clubbing position, and raced forward, swinging his cane wildly. Batman used a pair of bat-o-rangs like knives, parrying the blows. He swung one, cutting a slice into the Hatter's straitjacket, revealing a plain, wooden, puppet-like torso.

Hatter jumped back. He jabbed his cane into the air, banging the teapot-lamp. Sparks and coals flew out, and a few hit the exposed areas of Batman's face, not hidden by his cowl. He let out a sharp hiss of pain, and the Hatter used the distraction to his advantage. He swung his cane into Batman's torso, knocking him back.

Hatter tapped the brim of his hat, and a strange, catapult-like device appeared out of the top, with an appearance like a mechanical arm and a gloved hand. The arm reached into the hat and pulled up a razor-edged platter, before flinging it like a Frisbee or discus. Batman rolled out of the way and tossed a small flash-bang capsule at the device. As the capsule exploded, the machine jammed, and practically jumped back into the hat. Hatter fell back two steps, startled by the noise and the maneuver, nearly falling onto his back from the unbalance the attack caused.

Regaining his balance, the Hatter held up his hand, making a pistol shape with his fingers and pointing at his approaching foe. The tip of his gloved index finger opened up, and a miniature rocket, in the shape of a spoon, shot out. Batman moved out of the way, but the blast that resulted from the rocket's impact with the floor sent him flying, right into the hands of the Mad Hatter.

The Hatter grabbed him with one hand by the collar, tucking his cane under his arm. Before the Dark Knight could react, Hatter reared back his other fist and slammed it across the cowled cranium of the Caped Crusader.

The blow was stunning, like a five-pound hammer. Then came another. And yet another. The Hatter began to giggle...

Then gasped, and let out a short shriek of anger and pain, dropping his cane and his opponent to the ground. Batman groaned, placing a hand on his head and looking up, dazed.

Cheshire had latched onto Hatter's neck, claws sunk deep into the green, leathery flesh. Hatter growled and peeled him off, chucking the cat across the room and into a grandfather clock. The glass shattered as the cat fell, apparently unconscious. Hatter picked up his cane and stalked towards Cheshire, distracted from his original prey. Batman slowly, painfully stood up, quietly slipping a bat-o-rang into his hand...

"_Bon voyage,_ Cheshire," snarled the Hatter, raising his cane into the air to strike the feline down...

Batman pulled back his arm, ready to throw...

_One shot...make it count..._

Cheshire opened one eye.

"_Bon voyage,_ yourself," hissed the cat, and disappeared.

Batman flung the bat-o-rang at the Hatter, who stared confusedly at the spot where the Cheshire Cat had once been lying...

SCHLUNKH! The bat-o-rang blade jammed into the gear in the Mad Hatter's back. Batman stepped back, as the Hatter let out a short gasp of pain and stumbled backwards, the gear in his back straining and groaning as it tried to turn...

Then, the bat-o-rang broke with a hideous _**CRRRRRRAAAAAACK!**_

What happened next was a sight and a sound that Batman knew he would take to his grave.

An unearthly scream of anguish emitted from the Mad Hatter's mouth. He spun around, his legs dancing a sort of jig, his head bobbing from side to side. One of his arms was held in the air, spinning his cane like a baton, while the other arm flapped up and down at his side like a bird's wing. The gear in his back spun faster and faster, and steam and sparks flew from his ears and nostrils.

Then, just as suddenly as this bizarre dance of death had begun, it ended. The cane fell from the Hatter's hand and clattered on the floor. He stood erect, arms clapped to his sides, heels snapped together, standing as straight as his hunched figure would allow. The only things that moved were his fingers, which twitched uncontrollably, and his head, which nodded rapidly up and down.

For a second, Batman could have sworn his lips mouthed the words, "Forgive me, Alice."

Then...KA-WOOMP! The gear in the Hatter's back flew backwards and lodged itself in a walrus-fountain, leaving a trail of clockwork parts behind it. The Hatter's hat flipped into the air and fell to the ground. As for the head it had rested upon, it flew up into the air like a sky-rocket, crashed through the glass roof, and was batted by the watch-mobile outside across the dark skies of Wonderland.

For a moment, the now smoldering body of the Hatter stood still in the chamber. Then, time seemed to slow to an unnatural speed as the body, still standing straight as a lowercase "l" fell to the floor like a collapsing building.

And then it was over. The Mad Hatter was dead.

Cheshire reappeared. He looked upon the Hatter's cadaver, his yellow eyes filled with mixed emotions.

_"My heart is always running out of time,"_ he murmered.

"He wasn't human, was he?"

"That, Mr. Wayne, is up to debate."

"What now?"

"The Gnomes here and at the Skool – those not yet transformed and stable enough to survive – will be released into the wilds of Wonderland...most likely they will be recaptured and sent to the Village of the Doomed, but who knows? The Automaton will cease to function."

"And the March Hare? The Dormouse? The remaining Gnomes?"

"We can do nothing for them now. The only way to save them is to destroy the Queen and restore Wonderland."

A short silence.

"Cheshire?"

"Yes?"

"Did you find the shortcut?"

"Yes, I did. Did you see the clock with the painting in it?"

"A secret door."

"You catch on quick. The eye is also the lock and the key. Go and free Gryphon. I'll catch up with you later."

Batman nodded. He opened up the glass of the clock with Alice's portrait in it. He looked closely at her eyes. One of them – on the left – seemed slightly larger than the other.

_Bingo._

Batman pressed his finger on the eye. The painting vanished, revealing a strange pattern of blue, green, silver, and purple spirals, circling off into infinity.

_A portal..._

"Batsy?"

"Batman turned towards the Cheshire Cat, who remained beside the cold, smoking body of the Hatter.

"Do you think there's a God?"

Batman stared at the cat for a few seconds.

Then he turned and walked into the portal. The painting reappeared.

Cheshire sighed.

"I guess I'll never know," he muttered.

Then he chuckled darkly.

"I'll see you in Hell, Hatter. Save a seat for me, will you?"

The Cheshire Cat swirled away.

Not another tick, nor a single tock, sounded in the Mad Hatter's Domain.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter XXVI: Something Wicked This Way Comes**

Far from the Mad Hatter's Domain, the Queen of Hearts sat in her(?) throne room, thinking and waiting.

The doors opened and, beneath her mask, a wide, maniacal grin spread across her face.

Through the black crepe curtains, she saw him enter.

The Jabberwock.

The Jabberwock's battle with the White Knight had left it scarred, inside and out. The Hatter's mechanical genius had reached its peak in the reconstruction of the creature. The Jabberwock was now twice as deadly; its wings were made of thick wood, with metal joints and a thin canvas "membrane." It's torso had been replaced with a furnace, lit forever by the natural fires of the beast's belly. The manxome creature's claws and the spikes along its back and tail had been replaced with iron replicas, and a brace on its neck kept the head in place. Just under its shoulders, placed between its wings, were two steam pipes, which pumped as the gangly, draconic thing moved. It was lean and muscular (if you want to call iron piping and copper fibers the thickness of a small tree branch "muscles"), built almost like an ape in the proportions of its limbs, and had teeth like those of an oversized beaver, as well as insect-like antennae. The Jabberwock's orange eyes glowed with an intensity similar to a pair of headlights...yet they were not of the Hatter's design. Indeed, the eyes were one of the few organic things to remain of the Jabberwock, aside from the most of its head and its thick, green, scaly skin.

"What is it you desire, Mistress?" growled the Jabberwock, bowing before his Queen. Just as the Hatter's voice was thin and dark, the Jabberwock's voice was deep and gravelly, though not quite as rocky as the Queen's.

**"You recall the intruder I spoke to you about, Jabberwock?"**

Only the Jabberwock could hear the Queen's voice and not flinch.

"Yes, Mistress."

**"The Hatter has failed me...he is, in fact, dead."**

There was no remorse or disappointment in the deranged tyrant's voice.

"Then it is my turn," the Jabberwock almost hissed in pleasure, a fiendish smile crawling over his scaly lips.

**"Indeed. And I give you the permission to take it as slowly as you like."**

The Jabberwock smiled wider.

"I will tear him limb from limb..."

**"NO."**

The Jabberwock frowned slightly, confused.

"Whyever not, Mistress?"

**"Because, you imbecilic burbler...I want to kill him myself."**

The Jabberwock's smile returned full force.

"Then, my Queen, may I have permission, at least, to try to break him in another way before he reaches you?"

The Queen's dark cackle echoed through the room.

**"Permission granted, Jabberwock. And no need to hurry!"**

"It shall be done...easily."

The Jabberwock bowed again, and left the room, the gears in his head (quite literally) turning as he planned his strategy.

_Bruce Wayne will come to me...he desires my eye for his weapon. I could just wait for him in my lair..._

_ But why wait? After all, its rude not to welcome guests._

The Jabberwock's furnace sputtered and rumbled with laughter.

He was going to enjoy this. Immensely.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter XXVII: With Eyes Aflame...**

Batman rode upon Gryphon's back, the half-bird, half-lion warrior flying across Wonderland.

"The Jabberwock resides in the Land of Fire and Brimstone," he said. "It is a strange region...one edge of it contains a beach, connecting it to the Treacle Sea. The rest of it, however..."

Gryphon trailed off.

"The name tells me enough. Volcanoes?"

"Just one, among other things. You see, what makes the Jabberwock so terrible is not its physical strength...although, of course, that stands on its own. The Jabberwock's true power comes from its magic...its eyes are hypnotic, and anything that looks directly into them – aside from the Queen, of course – is doomed to a painful death."

"But what about the Land of Fire and Brimstone?"

"Like its residents, the Land of Fire and Brimstone is a place of magic. But not all magic is good magic, as I suppose you've already found out."

Gryphon paused, before continuing with, "You must know now, Batman: whatever you see there would not be the same as what the rest of would see on our own. It is what is in your heart of hearts that the Jabberwock's lair will be twisted into...but it will not be as it is inside you. It will only be a shadow."

There was a long pause.

"Where are we heading now?"

"To the beach in the Land of Fire and Brimstone. There is a friend there who can help us. Cheshire is probably already there, waiting, in case you were wondering."

_Actually, I was just starting to..._

"What friend?"

Gryphon smiled and began to recite, his voice slightly warbled.

_"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the King's horses, and all the King's men, couldn't put Humpty together again."_

The Gryphon laughed.

"The last part is wrong: the King of Hearts, before his murder, was able to piece our eggman together again...just not very well. Humpty is an expert marksman, but his elliptical essence has been utterly destroyed. He's blind in one eye, smokes too much for his own good, and is totally mute, but he is not without use. No one knows the beach like Humpty Dumpty. He can help us, if no one else can."

Batman nodded.

"Gryphon?"

"Hm?"

"What happened to the Mock Turtle? You were friends in the books."

Gryphon's mood became somber.

"I don't know. The Duchess stole his shell for a stew pot...I don't know what became of Mock Turtle himself. I haven't seen him in almost ten years."

Before anything else could be said, a hideous roar filled the sky.

Gryphon's eyes widened.

Batman turned around.

A huge, dragon like creature, with mechanical wings, metal claws and metal spikes on its back, antennae and beaver teeth, and scaly green skin was flying towards the Dark Knight and Gryphon at an astonishing speed.

Immediately, Batman knew this was the Jabberwock.

_Don't look it in the eye..._

"Hang on," Gryphon said, and dived down as the Jabberwock swooped, its deadly iron talons slashing with surprising and deadly grace and precision.

Thankfully, these claws missed the Gryphon and Batman by a hair.

The Dark Knight reached into his utility belt with one hand, keeping hold of Gryphon's neck with the other, and threw a smoke pellet at the Jabberwock.

The draconic cyborg choked and spluttered, but flew right through the gray cloud.

_Well, that didn't help..._

"Smoke?" chortled the Jabberwock. "You think the product of a _gunshot_ will stop me?"

_**Give me the necklace, lady...**_

___...What the...?_

"BRUCE, LOOK OUT!"

Batman ducked down on Gryphon's back just as a claw swatted at his head, missing by an inch.

But neither the Caped Crusader nor the Gryphon were able to avoid the Jabberwock's spiked tail.

It hit Gryphon in the wing with a blow like a club, and, stunned, the bird-lion tumbled through the sky, Batman falling off of his back as the free fall continued, the mad, raucous, rough laughter of the Jabberwock following them as they plummeted to the ground...

Then came dizziness and a disturbing warmth...a sense of floating...

For the umpteenth time, the world went dark.

_**Give me the necklace, lady...**_

_** Hey, take it easy...**_

_** You keep out of this...!**_

___...Mom...?_

_ ...Dad...?_

_ ...You...!_

_**BLAM!**_


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter XXVIII: Along the Briny Beach**

A small boy and his parents, all three dressed in their finest outing clothes, sit inside the Forgetful Fawn Theater. Its front entrance opens up on a public walkway, its back heading out to the infamous Crime Alley, a place of beggars, peddlers and thieves.

The scene is the Mad Tea Party. The Hatter, in his green frock coat and gray top hat, sits across from Alice in her blue blouse and skirt and vanilla apron. Beside the Hatter is stationed the March Hare, in his red waistcoat and straw hat, and the Dormouse, snoring loudlyand leaning back in his chair.

"Here's a riddle," chirps the Hatter. "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"I've no idea! Why?" asks Alice, cocking her head slightly.

"Not a clue!" laughs the Hatter.

A small boy's exasperated groan matches that of the actress playing Alice.

_This is kids' stuff..._

"How about a song?" yawns the Dormouse.

_Oh, not again..._

"Yes, yes!" agrees the March Hare, clapping his hands.

"You know, I was singing at a concert for the Queen of Hearts last week...shall we try that one?"

"What one?"

"This one!"

The song begins. The lights go out, save for a spotlight. Images of stars flash across the backdrop of the stage, and the three mad tea partygoers approach the edge of the stage.

And then it comes...slow, haunting music. Were it not for the images of _bats_ that streak across the stage, the scene might be called beautiful.

_"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat...how I wonder what you're at. Up above the world you fly...like a tea tray in the sky...twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle..."_

The lights began to flash, and the music speeds up into an 80's rock. The bats drop, now actors on wires, wearing great black capes and suits. The Hare and the Hatter jump up onto the tea table, seemingly conducting the bats as they fly.

_"Twinkle! Twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you are at! Up, above the world, you fly! Just like a tea tray! In the sky! Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle..."_

Images of a cave and bats, spiraling up to heaven, and the feeling of wings and leathery flesh against a small boy's shoulders...

A small boy shudders and leans toward his father.

"Dad? Can we go? Please?"

The father turns, confused.

Then he sees the expression on his son's face and understands.

"Sure."

The father turns toward his wife, a small boy's mother.

"Martha? Let's leave."

_**"That was a close one..."**_

Batman groaned as he felt the ground under his feet.

He looked up, his vision hazy, into Gryphon's beaked face.

"I almost didn't get to you in time," Gryphon said, and smiled slightly. "You all right?"

"I'm fine."

"If you say so," Gryphon said, a bit doubtfully.

"Well, that was an interesting sight, indeed," purred the Cheshire Cat's voice.

"Where were you?" growled Batman.

"Oh, enjoying the view. And might I add, Gryphon, that you make an ideal companion...perhaps I'll just take a catnap."

"Jealous, Cheshire?" Gryphon asked with a smirk.

"Not at all; on the contrary, I rather like the break."

"Where's Humpty Dumpty?"

"This way," Cheshire hissed, and began to stalk off. Gryphon followed, and Batman took up the rear.

Atop an old brick wall sat Humpty Dumpty. He had limbs like a Card Guard's, thick and stuffed-toy like in appearance, and wore the same brown vest, trousers, and shoes he did in the Tenniel illustrations, complete with the wide, high collar. However, as with almost everything Batman had seen so far, the eggman was twisted in some way: his egg-shaped form was cracked and chipped, it's oval shape now a messy jigsaw puzzle of broken shell. One eye was visible, with bags under it, as if he had very little rest, and the other was broken into sixths, its image scattered across the eggman's body. His mouth was crooked, twisted upwards, left, and right, and in one corner was stuck a large cigar. As he puffed in, the smoke floated upward through the holes in the top of Humpty Dumpty's "head." Laying under him, propped up against the wall, was a large elephant gun, with gold plaque on the rifle butt reading "BlunderBuss."

"I'd say ladies and gentlemen, but, since we've none of the later..." Cheshire began.

Nobody laughed. Humpty Dumpy rolled his one good eye.

"Fine, fine...in all seriousness, allow me to introduce Humpty Dumpty, the eggman of Briny Beach."

Humpty Dumpty mock-saluted in greeting.

"Humpty," Gryphon said. "Do you know the way to the Jabberwock's Lair?"

Humpty Dumpty nodded.

"Will you take us there?" Batman asked.

Humpty eyed him curiously, and then gestured madly with his hands to Cheshire and Gryphon.

_Not a sign language I've studied..._

"What did he say?"

"He simply asked for your identity."

"Batman."

Humpty's eye widened. He signed again.

"Yes, my dear Humpty," Cheshire growled. "He's the same one that destroyed the Mad Hatter."

"How did you know...?"

"Humpty Dumpty," Gryphon commanded, ignoring Batman's question, like his other two comrades, "lead us to the Jabberwock's Lair."

Humpty shook his "head," and signed rapidly. Gryphon groaned.

"We have no time Humpty..."

The eggman crossed his arms over his chest determinedly.

"What is it now?"

"Humpty says he will not take us today," Cheshire translated. "He claims that the Land of Fire and Brimstone is too dangerous at night..."

"Oh, really?"

Batman jumped up onto the wall, an explosive capsule in his hand. He grabbed Humpty Dumpty by his coat and held him up close.

"Listen," he growled. "Regardless of whether or not this place is real, I haven't forgotten what was going on before I got here: I have someone to save along with this world, and I only have so much time to do it. For all I know, they might be dead already. Today I've faced giant insects, living playing cards, cyborg soldiers, killer toys, talking chess pieces, and a lunatic wearing a stovepipe hat. I am destined to do battle with the Queen of Hearts, and the outcome is uncertain. You want my help?"

Humpty nodded, scared and startled.

_"Bring me to the Jabberwock. NOW."_

An audible gulp was heard from the eggman. He nodded, and Batman released him, dropping him down.

Cheshire and Gryphon stared, shocked.

"Batsy? You're scary sometimes. Genius, yes...but _really _scary."

The cat received no response to this remark.

Humpty Dumpty grabbed his gun and began to walk off.

"Come on," Batman said, and followed without another word.

Needless to say, Gryphon and the Cheshire Cat were right behind him.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter XXIX: Twisting Like Bad Oysters**

Humpty Dumpty led Batman, Gryphon, and the Cheshire Cat away from the Briny Beach, deeper into the Land of Fire and Brimstone.

A volcano spouted founts of lava in the distance, but nothing else...an idealization of a volcano, rather than the true thing. Literal rivers of molten rock flowed down and through the region, before flowing back into the Earth to continue the cycle. Humpty kept close eyes on the lava streams, his elephant gun held close, his finger never leaving the trigger.

Suddenly, up out of the lava popped a strange, red, piranha like fish. It hissed and spat a stream of bright, green acid from its mouth. The cat disappeared, and, with a startled scream, so did the fish.

Within seconds, Cheshire reappeared, the fish in his mouth, dropping out of the air. He spat the creature at Batman's feet.

The red, piranha-beast had webbed legs like a frog rather than fins. As it lay upon the hard, black, igneous ground, its body cooled and turned turquoise in color.

"Snarks," Cheshire purred. "They make a great filet, and a great filet might also be made from them."

"Unless they fry you first," Gryphon muttered.

Humpty Dumpty just nodded and continued to walk.

As they came over a bare, dark hill...

"...What in God's name is that?" Cheshire growled.

"I think...I think it's a mansion. A manor."

Batman's eyes widened.

"No," he whispered. "It's not a manor. It's MY manor."

All three of his guides stared at him.

"Yours?" Cheshire hissed.

"My home. Wayne Manor. This was my family's estate."

Cheshire raised an eyebrow.

"Emphasis on _was._"

The Wayne Manor before Batman was, in all ways, the Manor he had grown up with and still dwelled in. But with one major difference: it was a smoldering ruin. It was as if the mansion had caught on fire, and had been put out only a few hours ago.

The smell of smoke and death filled the air.

"The Jabberwock's Lair," Gryphon said quietly, a mixture between an avian hiss and a feline snarl rising from his throat. "No doubt about it."

"I think, Bruce," Cheshire meowed, "that you'll have to take care of this alone."

Humpty Dumpty winced nervously, and then nodded in agreement.

Batman stared at the doorknob.

_And into the fire we go..._

He opened the door and entered the manor house.

He began to walk through the hallways. All that could be heard was great, black grandfather clock, chiming ominously. The witching hour in Wonderland.

Gryphon's words rang through his head: "_it is what is in your heart of hearts that the Jabberwock's Lair will be twisted into...but it will not be as it is inside you."_

_ Wayne Manor is not my home..._

_ In my heart of hearts, home is...the Batcave._

He walked up the stairs.

The charred, black and red door before him loomed like a phantom.

He opened the door.

The portrait before him, as he had suspected, was not as it was.

His parents, their hands on his shoulders...all of them skeletons in clothing.

He eyed the marble bust of Shakespeare on the now-smashed-in-half writing desk...

No. Not Shakespeare.

Edgar Allan Poe.

_Why is a raven like a writing desk?_

_ Of course..._

_ "Bravo, detective," indeed._

He lifted up the head of the bust, to reveal a bright red button underneath.

He pressed it.

The fireplace, bearing decorations of bat-winged gargoyles and with images of chains carved into its mantel, slid slowly aside, the broken, burned wood and wallpaper scratching and crumbling into black dust as it moved.

The entrance to the Batcave had never looked more threatening.

He slowly descended the stairs.

_Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimzy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe..._

Finally, he came to the Batcave...

It was just that. A cave. With a ceiling covered in bats, and a few lights...

...And a large, black throne, with a bat wings-shaped back...

...In which sat the Jabberwock, claws clutching at the armrests, orange eyes bright and demonic.

Batman quickly turned his gaze downwards, focusing his vision on the Jabberwock's neck brace.

Beside the Jabberwock, on either side of his throne, sat a pair of hideous, green, slug-like beasts with large, muscular legs, mouths lined in long, needle-like fangs, and beady, black, insectoid eyes. Their backs were lined with steel pipes, out of which puffed clouds of steam. They made soft burbling noises as they looked Batman over, like starving dogs looking at a slab of meat.

"My Jabberspawn," the Jabberwock said, as if in explanation of the creatures. "Hatter made them. You might call them my children...it does get lonely, you know, being the last one of my kind..."

He scratched the head of one of his Jabberspawn. It made a soft, garbled noise that was somewhere between a purr and a growl.

"You've kept me waiting, Bruce" the draconic creature went on. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that punctuality is a virtue?"

_You and Alfred have much in common..._

"Then again," Jabberwock considered, "you make it a point to be 'fashionably late,' don't you? Between your billionaire playboy daydreams and dim-witted, pajama-clad night flights, the hours just fly by...there's barely time for anything else."

"Is that the best you have? Second rate insults? They don't hurt-"

"Your parents were expecting you to help them, weren't they?"

A pause.

"...What's that?"  
Jabberwock chuckled nastily, rising slowly from his chair, claws behind him, wings neatly tucked against his back. He began to walk in circles around the Dark Knight. His voice increased in volume and ferocity as he went on.

"Perhaps," he said, a sadistic and mocking level overlapping his casualness, "they thought you might stop them, or warn them of the danger...they could have gone out through the front. Perhaps they thought you might call for help, before their bodies went cold and stiff. Oh, they must have waited and waited...but all in vain! And they DIED for their trouble, didn't they?"

Another pause. A low, rippling snarl creeped into the Jabberwock's voice. When he spoke next, his words flew out quick and hard, like bullets from a rifle.

"You FOOLISH, COWARDLY, and DEPLORABLE _NIGHT-CHILD!_ You knew the dangers of the alleyway! You knew the importance of the play! But, no! You were too _frightened_ by – of ALL things – the lights and the costumes to think of anything else. You had to get out...you couldn't be bothered with little things like the desperate of Crime Alley. And you had nothing to lose...no necklace, no wife. So you were protected and spared...while your parents fell victim to the horror that lay waiting to _STRIKE...!"_

_**"SHUT UP!"**_

__The Dark Knight lunged, launching a punch at the Jabberwocky's face. The creature sidestepped the attack, laughing maniacally.

"Eat, children!"

The Jabberspawn had been waiting for this. They ran up to Batman, snapping their jaws. The Caped Crusader jumped over them, kicking them to the ground. They bloated, impish beasts made puppy-like whimpers as they hit the stone floor.

That's when the bats woke up. They squeaked and screamed, spiraling downward and then flying off into the darkness. Batman let out a cry of fury, trying to swat them away as the scratched at him and flapped their wings in his face.

The Jabberwock took the opportunity, grabbing Batman by the collar as the bats left...

...And forcing him to look into the deadly amber-orange eyes of the frumnious beast.

_"Look into my eyes, Bruce,"_ he growled in a sing-song voice. _"What is there to see...?"_

The eyes suddenly turned blue, and then Batman felt a familiar wave wash over him...a wave he had felt once before in this misadventure...

_**Bruce...**_

___M-Mom...?_

_**Bruce...**_

___D-D-Dad...?_

_**Where are you...? Son, why aren't you here with us...? We need you...**_

___...No...No, it isn't real..._

_**Don't fail us, Bruce...**_

___Won't fail..._

_ ...__**Bruce...**_

__"BRUCE!"

There was a cry of rage, like that from a gigantic bird of prey, and suddenly Batman dropped to the ground. He shook his head to clear away the cobwebs from his mind and looked up.

The twisted construct of Wayne Manor and the "Batcave" had vanished.

As had the Jabberwock's right eye.

The ruptured eye was stuck on one of Gryphon's talons. The Cheshire Cat hissed angrily, while Humpty Dumpty aimed his gun, firing round after round at the howling, shrieking monster. The Jabberwock let out another furious roar, placing a clawed "hand" over the slashed socket before retreating, flying off in a clumsy, anguished way, the bullets from Humpty Dumpty's "BlunderBuss" barely missing his wings until he was far out of range, no more than a dark shadow in the smoke filled skies.

Gryphon held out his talon to Batman. With two fingers, Batman removed the eye from the bird-like claw.

"Don't look at it yet," Gryphon advised, and then blew on the eyeball. Out of the tube in his throat came a blast of frosted, frigid air. The eye remained orange in color, but dulled, no longer glowing.

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

"For the record, Batsy, saving you is becoming a habit. Please, try to stop it."

"Cheshire?"

"Hm?"

"Shut your mouth."

Gryphon glared after the Jabberwock as he vanished from sight.

"He won't be happy about that," he muttered. "The entrance to Queensland will no doubt be barred by a certain 'manxome foe.'"

"And we'll be ready," Batman said, dryly but determinedly, as he took the pieces of the Eyestaff and began to piece them together. He coupled the rods, and then placed the eye into the clawed end. The amber eyeball turned blue, but did not glow, as it had when the beaver-toothed ghoul had tried its hypnotic trickery.

Batman held it up like a rifle, aiming it at one of the unconscious Jabberspawn.

_"Raven."_

A blast of bright, white light shot out.

The Jabberspawn let out a loud scream as the bolt of light cut it clean in half, the wound cauterized by the heat of the blast.

He then did the same to the other Jabberspawn.

His companions stared, awestruck.

"So _that's_ how it works," Gryphon murmered.

Humpty Dumpty saluted – this time it was a real salute – and propped his gun against his shoulder before signing something with one hand.

"What did he say?"

"Humpty says he will remain at the beach," Cheshire translated, "and make sure the Jabberwock does not return...or at least, he'll try to."

Batman nodded to the eggman, who half-smiled before turning on his heel and marching away.

"I will join you in Queensland," the Gryphon said. "I have a score to settle with the Jabberwock, to say nothing of the Queen of Hearts herself."

Batman nodded, and then turned to Cheshire.

"And you?"

The cat flicked out his claws, grinning more devilishly than usual.

"You won't be keeping me out of this game."

_Queensland it is._


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter XXX: And the Eagle Flies...**

Queensland.

The name of the region earned its name well: the grounds of the Heart Palace took up an area the size of a small town, larger than most castle grounds on Earth. There was in the grounds but a great maze of thorny hedge decorated with black roses. As neat and tidy as the hedge maze was, its twists and turns and shady corners made it just as forbidding as any other part of Wonderland...who knew where a Card Guard might be lurking.

Just as the Hedge Maze of the grounds was ominously tidy, so was the Heart Palace the very model of chaos. The spires and towers of the Palace were on odd proportions, many of them positioned where one would expect it to collapse any instant. The windows of the Palace, made of stained glass tinted a blood red, were all decorated in the images of Playing Card suits: Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds, and Spades. The building was made of different materials, giving it an even more anarchic appearance: concrete, red brick, black rock, and varying kinds of lumber all built the exterior.

But it was not the strange, off-kilter demeanor of the Heart Palace itself that made it frightening.

It was the tentacles.

Twitching, pulsing, red and pink toned tentacles, like the tentacles of a squid, surrounded the Heart Palace. They did not react, or grasp, or move, other than to twitch and pulsate, but their presence increased the horrific and unnatural appearance of the Palace exterior ten fold.

The Devil only knew what was on the inside.

Batman stood outside the Gates of Queensland, Gryphon to one side of him, the Cheshire Cat on the other. The gates were spiked, and made of rusted brass. A silver padlock kept them shut. A strange, ethereal glow surrounded it, and what looked like thin, grayish steam or mist swirled about in a ghostly manner.

Batman swore he heard faint moans come from the padlock...

"Daunting, isn't it?" purred the cat in an observatory voice.

"Once the gates are open," Gryphon said, "we will have to be on our guard at every second. It will be a tricky run up to the Heart Palace."

"Not so tricky as you may think...the Guards only patrol the right turns, not the wrong, in the maze. Only the inhabitants of this desolate tract know its dimensions...by running into the fray, we'll reach the arena for the endgame."

"Can't you get in and start to scout now?" Batman queried.

"Regrettably, no. See the padlock?"

"How can anyone miss it?"

"That mist and glow isn't for decoration, Batsy. Only the Jabberwock's Eyestaff can break the curtain of souls that surrounds that lock. In the meantime, I cannot enter...my teleportation is disabled."

"Yet you got into the Jabberwock's Lair – both of you – right after telling me I'd have to go alone...?"

"Some rules," Cheshire growled. "Are meant to be broken. This is not one of them."

"I'll take the run with you," Gryphon said. "Cheshire will watch the areas ahead, and keep us on the right track in the maze. I doubt the Jabberwock will be in the maze...his attacks require a certain amount of space. But as for his 'offspring...'"

"Stand back."

The Gryphon and the Cheshire Cat did just this. Batman aimed the Eyestaff, and fired it at the lock. There was a sound like a wailing infant, and then the padlock flashed bright green...and vanished.

The faint, possibly imagined moans abruptly ended.

A pause.

"...That's it?"

"Apparently," Gryphon said.

"Wait a second," Cheshire hissed, and vanished.

There was silence for a time.

"Do you think the cat will get caught?"

"Cheshire? Caught? Frankly, I'm more worried about the health of the Cards...well, not really, but you know what I mean."

Batman nodded.

"Something's bothering me..."

"What?"

"This is just too easy."

"...I don't get it."

Batman sighed.

"In all my life, I've learned one thing: if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. This little misadventure has proved that time and time again."

Gryphon just stared blankly.

"We're in Queensland. We've torn out the Jabberwock's eye, and completed the Eyestaff. Cheshire is in the maze, looking for the quickest way into the Palace without alerting the Queen's Guards. Something should have gone wrong."

"Like what?"  
"A guard. A booby-trap..."

_"HOW ABOUT A NICE AMBUSH, NIGHT-CHILD?"_

Batman and Gryphon dived out of the way as the Jabberwock landed, snarling. His one eye seemed even brighter than usual, while the injury where his other one should have been was scabbed, pus-filled and grotesque, still bearing the mark where the Gryphon's talon had cut.

He loomed over Batman, gnashing his long, flat-edged, shovel-blade sharp teeth, trying to focus his opponent's line of vision into his one eye.

"Look at me...LOOK AT ME!" he roared. "Look Death in the eye!"

Batman responded by firing the Eyestaff at the Jabberwock's right leg. The draconic beast let out a furious roar, stepping back and grabbing its wounded limb. Charred wires and a metallic skeleton showed under the the seared, blistered, cauterized scales.

The Gryphon let out an eagle-like cry, mixed with a wildcat-like snarl, and pounced on the Jabberwock. The pair were entangled in a strange sort of wrestling match, slashing and biting and, in Gryphon's case, pecking at each other violently, their wings beating in each other's faces.

Cheshire reappeared just in time to witness the Gryphon slam the Jabberwock's skull into the walls guarding the Queensland Maze. The draconic beast hissed and took to the air.

"You two go to the Palace! Kill the Queen of Hearts! I'll take care of the Jabberwock!"

Without another crossword, Gryphon took off, tailing the manxome, one-eyed creature with a vengeful glare in his avian eyes.

For about two seconds, the cat and the Dark Knight watched the pair duel in the sky, as Gryphon swooped at the Jabberwock, who performed a sort of mid-air kick, knocking the bird-lion back and nearly dropping him back to the ground.

"Come on!" urged Cheshire, darting back into the maze. "You heard Gryphon!"

Batman took one last look at the aerial battle, and ran into the maze.

The last he saw of Gryphon and the Jabberwock, before the high, spiked, stone garden walls blocked their silhouettes from sight, they had launched a blast of fire (Jabberwock) and ice (Gryphon) at each other's wings...


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter XXXI: Blood and Rose**

The Cheshire Cat practically galloped through the Hedge Maze of Queensland, Batman hot on his tail, the Jabberwock's Eyestaff held in his hands like the electro-staff of a White Bishop. The Maze held more twists and turns than the mines of the Village of the Doomed.

As they turned the fourth corner, a pair of Spades – a Four and a Five – appeared. One of them held a Jabberspawn by a leash, like a sick, alien bloodhound. The Cards jabbered and growled, and the Spade with the Jabberspawn released its leash. The Jabberspawn burbled and hissed, bounding up and snapping its fanged maw. Batman cried out as the legged slug bit down on his left arm, and then threw it to the ground before bashing its head with the Eyestaff.

Whether the Jabberspawn died from the blow or was simply knocked out did not matter, for the Spades ran at Batman, axes held high over their ham-shaped heads, before he had time to think. Dodging as the Five swung his axe down, Batman flung a bat-o-rang at the four, and the blade stuck in its wrist. The Four yelped, dropping his axe, and was cut into thirds by the Five. Batman aimed the Eyestaff at the Five's torso...

It is neither necessary nor lovely to say what happened next.

The way was wrought with danger, as Cheshire had said. Hand upon Hand of Card Guards blocked the way to the Palace doors, most of them Diamonds and Clubs, with their spiked polearms and guns, as well as several axe-toting Spades. The Hearts seemed to be the elite soldiers of the maze, for they were tough and few, their buzzsaw-rods cutting down everything in their path as they attacked.

Jabberspawn often accompanied them, just as the one from the first attack had, on leashes. These were much more easily dealt with than the Cards (and most definitely their master), their slimy forms easily cut by blasts from the Eyestaff.

The Cheshire Cat showed no mercy, a surprisingly deadly fighter. Claws and fangs against the Card Guards' myriad of weapons, the feline always won out.

And, still, this was not the final battle.

After nearly fifteen turns and twists of endless battle, Batman and Cheshire came to an area without Cards.

"The Queen! The Queen! My lower incisors for the Queen!" hissed Cheshire, panting. "Where IS that wretched creature?"

"Cheshire?"

"Yes?"

"I just thought of something..."

"Well, out with it?"

"Wouldn't it be easier to just...disappear over to the Palace doors?"  
A pause.

"Batsy, I love you."

"I hope you don't mean that..."

"I don't. Not seriously."

Quite literally in the blink of an eye, the maze was behind them, and the doors into the Heart Palace were in front of them...

Along with a Deck of Card Guards and four Jabberspawn, one for each Suit.

There was a pause, the cat and the Dark Knight staring down their foes, the Cards breaking out into uproarious laughter at the odds.

_Oh, Jesus..._

Then came a loud, angry cry, and all the Cards scattered, dragging the Jabberspawn with them.

The Gryphon and the Jabberwock plummeted down, right onto the doorstep of the Heart Palace.

Both were marked by their dogfight. The Gryphon's neck bore many deep gouges, where the Jabberwock had attempted to remove his freezing tube, his fur was singed, and his wings were missing several feathers. His legs were bruised and bloodied, his beak's tip chipped. One of his eyes was swollen, black and purple, while a small scratch was seen just above the other, dripping a long line of blood down his face.

As for the Jabberwock, he seemed only a bit worse for the wear. The canvas of his wings was torn, their metal joints frosted over, so he could not fly very far or for very long, and he was covered in bruises and incisions where his enemy had slashed and pecked at him, but the worst wound he bore was the scabbed socket of his lost eye.

The pair were locked in a sort of stranglehold, the Gryphon under the Jabberwock, his bird-like talons and forelimbs around the cyborganic monster's neck, the Jabberwock's own iron claws and scaly, long-fingered hands wrapped around the neck of his foe, smothering the freezing tube, which spouted small bursts of frost. The Jabberwock was chuckling sadistically, the Gryphon gasping and cawing...

Seven Cards (either very stupid or very bold...most likely the former) suddenly lunged at Batman and the cat from behind. Three of them were Hearts (an Ace, a Two, and a Three), two of them were Diamonds (a Six and a Nine), and the last ones were a Spade and a Club.

Batman, forgetting the wrestling Gryphon and Jabberwock, flung three bat-o-rangs, eliminating the three Hearts, so as to make the battle easier. The Diamond was next, as he flung a smoke pellet straight into its wide gun barrel, startling it and causing it to drop its weapon, at which point the Club proceeded to hammer it with its polearm. The Spade swung his axe in a wide and clumsy arc, easily avoided, and was eliminated by a low-power bolt from the Eyestaff, aimed at its eyes.

The Spade screamed, blinded, its eyes no longer resembling eyes in any shape or form at all. The Club, having finished its work on the Diamond, struck it down, and was also defeated by a blast from the Jabberwock's Eyestaff, burning a hole that went all the way through its cardboard body and killing it instantly.

No sense of discomfort accompanied these actions.

_**"ARRRA-KHA!"**_

A brief, painful squawk, a loud crack, and a popping of bone.

_Gryphon...!_

Batman turned. The Jabberwock removed his hands, moving back from the Gryphon, licking some blood off of his beaver-like teeth with a forked, serpentine tongue.

Gryhon lay on the Palace steps, panting for air and make soft croaking noises. His feathered neck was twisted out of place, the metal tube broken in half by the Jabberwock's strong grip, blue, freezing liquid pouring from it and mingling with the bloodstained, charred fur of his chest.

Batman stared for a while at the Gryphon, the bird-lion's breath getting weaker and weaker...

The sound of the Jabberwock's soft, dark, rocky laughter filled his entire focus as Cheshire padded up to the Gryphon's fading being.

"Another failure," snarled the dragon. "Another disaster to add to your black book. How typical of you...how ridiculous, to think you could ever save this world! You have no hope...your guilt is all you know, you broken child! You can't save him, you can't save Wonderland...not anymore than you could save your parents, or your red-headed fly girl, or, perhaps especially, any of your Boy Blunders..."

Red filled Batman's vision.

He turned slowly to the Jabberwock, holding the Eyestaff, aiming it between at the monster's neck, so as to keep his gaze away from its eyes. The Jabberwock smirked, growling lowly.

"You don't _really_ expect to win, do you?"  
Batman glared. All thought of dreams and morals left him.

"Yes. I do."


	32. Chapter 32

Notes: As I think everyone can guess, this is our fifth Battle Chapter. Only six chapters and the Epilogue left, and this story is complete, so for those who have been following its progress, keep checking in...this'll be finished in no time! Now, prepare to face a...

**Chapter XXXII: Manxome Foe**

_**Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite! The claws that catch! Look out for the Jub-Jub Bird, and shun the frumnious Bandersnatch!**_

The Jabberwock barely dodged the blast from the Eyestaff, moving his serpentine neck out of the way. He retaliated with a blast of fire. Batman rolled out of the way. His cape's edge was scorched, but no further damage was borne.

The Jabberwock roared, slashing with his iron claws furiously. Batman dodged this way and that, always remembering to keep his eyes on the Jabberwock's neck and torso.

The Jabberwock grabbed hold of the Eyestaff. Batman had, by this time, grown accustomed to tugs-of-war, and pulled as hard as he could. But his mortal muscles were no match for the frumnious beast's metal fibers and sinews, and it seemed the Jabberwock would win the battle...

That's when he fired another bolt from the staff, and off came the Jabberwock's right arm.

_**He took his vorpal sword in hand. Long time the manxome foe he sought...so rested he by the tum-tum tree, and sat awhile in thought...**_

The Jabberwock shrieked, smacking Batman with the back of his remaining hand and knocking the Dark Knight back. Fueled by uncharacteristic rage, the Caped Crusader flung a bat-o-rang at the Jabberwock, and the blade stuck in the leg that had already been burned by the Eyestaff.

The Jabberwock seemed to take no notice of this particular offense, and released another blast of flames. Batman ducked and fired another bolt from the Eyestaff...

And away went the Jabberwock's tongue.

Unable to do anything but burble and snarl unintelligibly, the Jabberwock's words could no longer wound. This revelation was not lost on the monster, for he let out a roar and snatched for Batman, who nimbly moved away and swung the Eyestaff like a club.

_Can't let him look me in the eye..._

This was easier said than done. The Jabberwock no longer seemed eager to kill or maim, but only to mesmerize, moving every direction to avoid to continuous strikes and launched bolts from the Eyestaff, while at the same time trying to put Batman's focus on his remaining eye.

Batman's focus moved to the Jabberwock's torso-furnace.

_This is the keystone of the monster's body, just like the gear in the Mad Hatter's back, and the Voracious Centipede's wound..._

_ If I can just cram something into that furnace..._

His thoughts consumed for just long enough for the Jabberwock to finally grab hold on his collar. The antennae of the cyborg's head twitched furiously as he held the Caped Crusader up to his hideous face.

_**And, as in uffish thought he sat, the Jabberwock, with eyes aflame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!**_

Batman did not look into the single eye, but into the dried gore of the slashed socket where the missing one was. Hearing the Jabberwock chuckle (or, with his newfound lack of a tongue, attempt to chuckle) darkly, he realized the creature thought it had him under its power. He waited until it opened its mouth...

He launched a punch at Jabberwock's front teeth, breaking one of them off. The Jabberwock roared, dropping its quarry.

A bat-o-rang flew at its antennae, and the creature screamed louder.

Batman dodged as the Jabberwock charged, enraged and desperate, like a cornered fox. As the beast turned, sweeping its claws out, he dodged again and banged the Eyestaff onto the door of the furnace in its middle. The latch that held the door closed broke off, and the furnace was wide open.

Realizing what was happening the Jabberwock snarled as if to say, "Oh, no, you don't!" and launched a kick with its strong, talon-toed legs, and sent Batman sprawling. The Jabberwock hissed angrily, and picked up a buzzsaw-rod, dropped by a fallen Heart, and switched it on. He raised the spinning blade over his head...

_**One, two! One, two! And through and through! The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!**_

Batman jumped up and threw four explosive capsules into the furnace before rolling away.

The Jabberwock looked down at its middle.

It let out a soft, pathetic whimper.

The first blast obliterated the Jabberwock's wings. It's only reaction was two short gasping grunts of pain.

The second blast sent the steam pipes in the Jabberwock's back flying.

This time, it screamed loudly.

And continued to scream, as the last two blasts destroyed the springs, gears, wheels, coils, pipes and cables that made the Jabberwock function. The beast's screams increased in volume as its green, scaly-skinned form caught on fire and began to convulse and twitch violently, its remaining arm slashing blindly, its legs shaking, and pieces of machinery spilling from its wounds.

Then, came a loud _BANG!_

And the Jabberwock stood still, smoldering and bleeding.

It turned its gaze skyward, moaned like a wounded bear, and slumped to the ground in death.

The brace that held its head to its neck was undone from the impact, and the Jabberwock's head rolled across the ground...

And stopped at the feet of the Cheshire Cat, who jabbed a claw into its single amber eye.

_**He left it dead, and, with its head, he went galumphing back.**_

Batman felt the crimson fury leave him as he saw Gryphon, coughing violently on the Palace steps. A pool of blood and blue fluid collected around him. He walked up, almost cautiously, and looked over at Cheshire, whose eyes seemed forlorn.

"Gryphon?"

"Not much time left, I fear," the cat meowed softly.

The Gryphon coughed.

And then he spoke, his voice reduced to a broken, squawking croak. It was surprising, in fact, that he could talk at all...

"Bruce..."

"Gryphon."

"Is it over...?"  
"Just for the Jabberwock."

Gryphon sighed...and then coughed.

"Then my part is done. You have destroyed the Queen's guardian...enter the ultimate battle."

"...Gryphon?"

"Y-yes?"

Another cough.

"Can't the Queen be forced into surrender?"

Gryphon shook his head weakly, the metal shards of his freezing tube scraping against each other.

"No...logic and truth will n-never defeat her evil. Only the Eye...Eyestaff has that p-power. The Queen will continue to corrupt us, until...her demise..."

Gryphon coughed three more times. A splatter of blood accompanied the last.

"So many," he said, his voice disturbingly stronger, "Have been harmed, or worse...their souls demand justice. Some crave more."

"Revenge."

Gryphon let out a sharp hiss, and nodded.

"The Cards are her last defense...they will give you n-n-no trouble, I know..."

A pause. Gryphon's eyes began to glaze over.

"Farewell, Gryphon," whispered Cheshire.

Batman could only nod sadly in agreement.

"Goodbye," the Gryphon said. "Do your best...you can o-only do your best...you can ALWAYS...do..."

A rattling came from the Gryphon's throat. He twitched...and lay still.

_**"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! Oh, Frabjous day! Calloo! Callay!" he chortled in his joy.**_

For a long time, there was no sound.

Then Cheshire sighed.

"Batsy?"

"Yeah?"

"You remember my question?"

"Yeah."

"What do you think?"

A three second pause.

"I really can't say."

Cheshire sighed.

"I thought you'd say that..."

Batman stood and approached the Palace doors.

"Where are you going?"

Batman stared at him dryly.

"To destroy the Devil. You coming?"

Cheshire looked at him for a second...and then smiled with genuine pleasure.

"Of course. I'm going to enjoy watching her fall."

"And, if I don't make it..."

A pause.

"Bruce?"

"Well, if I don't make it, there will hopefully be more than one way to skin a cat...if you'll pardon the expression."

Cheshire squirmed uncomfortably.

"A most unpleasant metaphor, especially considering all that has happened since your arrival...please, avoid its usage in the future."

The cat and the Dark Knight entered the Palace.

It was the end of the Jabberwock.

But it was not the end of the war.

_**Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimzy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe...**_


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter XXXIII: Into the Heart of Darkness**

Of all the places Batman had seen on his misadventure through Wonderland, the Heart Palace was by far the most macabre.

The walls were bright red, with body parts stuck to them by a gooey, gummy, pinkish substance. Heads of Gnomes, Card Guards, and other creatures were impaled on spikes, lined on either side of a bright red carpet that seemed to run through the entire Palace. The red stained glass windows added to the horrific, bloody luster of the place. The scent of death and old blood was strong in the air, and lines of blood, both fresh and long-dried, spattered the walls. The building was dreadfully warm, like the belly of a hospital, and torches on spiked holders lined the bloodstained, red and pink walls.

As with the exterior, the Palace was crawling with red and pink tentacles, which seemed to sprout out of nowhere. They made no move to attack or prevent Batman's progress as he slowly began to move through the Queen's castle, but only twitched and wriggled blindly.

The most horrific quality of all, however, was the utter lack of sound. There was nothing...no breath of life, not even a cry of grief or madness, such as those in the Mad Hatter's Domain, nor even a loud howl of terror and pain, like in the Village of the Doomed.

Nothing. No sound at all.

Period.

"Lovely décor," growled Cheshire, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I wonder if Jack the Ripper is her lover..."

"I was thinking more along the lines of Victor Zsasz..."

"Who?"

"Never mind."

The Cheshire Cat let out an ironic chuckle.

"You look as if you've seen worse, Batsy."

"I haven't...I've just come close."

The walk was spent in silence.

For a while anyway.

Every room was the same. There were slight variations in "decoration," but the overall tone of the place was similar in each hall and court. They came to one room where, in the center, was what seemed to be a swimming pool.

It was filled to the brim with thick, wet blood.

They came to a hall, one side made of nothing but the overlapping and mismatched stones and wood that made the Palace, the other made of nothing but red stained glass.

Outside, through this wall, was visible a courtyard, a chopping block and axe in the center, with a black stone grounds...strewn throughout with headless bodies of all kinds of people and creatures.

The whole thing was spent in silence.

"Batsy?"

"Hm?"

"I'm officially freaked out."

Batman let an odd smile play across the corner of his mouth...it was gone in a flash.

_Only Cheshire..._

Then came the first sound: a battle cry.

_Card Guards!_

Down from the spiral staircase came the Deck, their weapons flashing in the torchlight and crimson tint. They no longer had their Jabberspawn "hounds," but this would make them no less dangerous.

Batman took up a flash-bang capsule in on hand, holding up the Eyestaff in the other.

The cat flicked out his claws, hissing, back arched.

"Fifty-Two Pickup," he growled, "Is a staple of juvenile humor...but when the deck slices and dices, it is no laughing matter..."

The battle began.

Batman ran forward, flinging the capsule onto the ground. About ten Cards reeled in surprise, and a few blasts from the Eyestaff took them out fast.

With a good fourth of their army already under wraps, the remaining Card Guards ran forward. Clubs and Spades swung their polearms and axes fast and hard, Diamonds took up the rear, their guns spattering bullets everywhere, and Hearts lunged and slashed with their buzzsaw-rods.

Cheshire took care of the Diamonds...their long-range attacks made them the most dangerous for the close quarters. After three of them fell, the rest began to back up through the staircase.

The same went for all of the Guards...when a few were slain, the rest began to back away, trying to block entry to the staircase. Batman's bat-o-rangs flew left and right, taking off hands and knocking away weapons, disarming many Cards, who were taken out by their supposed comrades in arms. The Eyestaff fired volley after volley of heated beams of light, burning and often utterly obliterating all it touched.

As Batman and the cat ascended the staircase, the close quarters grew even tighter. The situation became more and more dangerous, and the battle became more and more furious. Slashing, blocking, swinging, firing...repeat...repeat...

Repeat...

...A stop.

After an eternity of fast-paced fighting, it was over.

A full Deck of Card Guards lay sprawled across the stairs, unconscious or dead.

_That took forever...yet, at the same time, it all seemed to happen so fast..._

"Well, well, that was easy enough..."

Batman looked.

Cheshire stood in front of two large, steel doors.

On them were inscribed images of flaming hearts.

The doors to the Queen's throne room.


	34. Chapter 34

Notes: This chapter is short, but important. Please, don't take it for granted. Only a few more to go, including the Epilogue, and this little yarn will be done. Now, allow me to present...

**Chapter XXXIV: Makes No Sense In Any Way...**

The passage outside the Queen's throne room was completely covered in red carpet. The closer one got to the door, the darker the carpet got, until it was almost black in color. A sort of bridge crossed from the staircase portal to the door, under which was a small "fountain pool" of blood.

And, on either side of the door, as with everything, were heads on spikes.

Batman approached the doors to the throne room, Cheshire watching him as he approached. He stopped at the edge of the bridge, about five feet away from the door.

A pause.

"This is it."

"Indeed," Cheshire purred. "I hope you can play poker...otherwise, you'll never call the Queen's bluff."

Batman looked at the cat dryly.

"Must you always be so confusing?"

The cat shook his head, and began to pace back and forth before the door, his held down, almost as if he was ashamed of himself.

"No," he said flatly. "And, before you go in, there are a few things I need to say to you."

He paused impressively. Then he took a deep breath.

"Batsy, I can't go in with you. I've broken enough rules on our little escapade than I should be allowed to...even magic has its boundaries."

"But, back in the Jabberwock's Lair..."

"As I said before, that rule was pretty much made to be broken...you had yet to find the strength. And I did nothing...it was all Gryphon and Humpty Dumpty."

Batman stayed silent.

The cat said the truth.

"Bravery and I," Cheshire went on, "are not on intimate terms...my natural curiosity is tempered with extreme caution, and thus I've lived long."

The cat stopped pacing, took another breath, and sat down.

"But now," he hissed, "ignoring my every instinct to flee or fib, I speak unto you the truth, without any regard to consequence! Your courage so far deserves no less."

Cheshire vanished, and then reappeared directly in front of Batman. He looked up into his eyes...

The cat's golden eyes looked scared, and almost dismayed, as he went on.

_It's almost as if he fears...no, KNOWS that he won't see me again, and feels bad about that fact..._

"You have suffered great pain...and you've caused some. You've endured deep grief, terrible fear, and feelings of great guilt, but you will be tested by a more wrenching anguish still, Bruce Wayne. THE WORST IS YET TO COME. You and this 'Red Queen' cannot both survive! You are two sides of the same-"

_**"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"**_

__The terrible, rocky voice – seven times worse than the Hatter's mechanical rasp or the Jabberwock's gravelly cackle – that accompanied this dreadful order could have only one owner.

The doors to the throne room sprang open, and out of the blackness, a scythe-like blade spun out, like a boomerang...

Straight for Batman's neck.

_"DUCK!"_ Cheshire yelled, and pushed him away...

_**SCHLUK!**_

__The boomerang-scythe clattered to the ground.

Cheshire's body fell to one side.

His smiling head rolled in the other direction.

Batman stared.

_The Cheshire Cat...dead..._

Suddenly, he felt like crying.

But he didn't.

Not out loud.

Cheshire would have laughed.

Still...he couldn't stop the tears that pooled the eye guards of his cowl...

Then came the voice again, its twisted, rocky tone emphasized by raucous laughter.

**"Awww...poor little Bat-boy. Kitty's gone to see the Devil about a set of horns, and he's all alone..."**

The voice giggled madly. Batman looked up.

He had never...not once...not with the Hatter...not with the Jabberwock...not for a single moment before...wanted so badly to kill someone.

Or _something._

**"Don't loiter, you moron. Get in here!"**

_With pleasure._

He gripped the Eyestaff tightly in his gloves.

It was time to end the Card game.


	35. Chapter 35

Notes: Welcome, foolish mortals, to Battle Chapter number six! I don't need to say who...at least I don't think so. IT'S...

**Chapter XXXV: Showtime**

The throne room was dark.

That was all that could describe it at the moment.

Dark.

A black crepe curtain, like a giant, black, bridal veil obscured much of the room from sight. Behind it, dimmed by the curtain's shadow, could be seen five stained glass windows. Four of them were like all the rest, made of red glass, shaped like the four Suits.

The fifth, located midway between these four, was a red circle, with an image of a full moon, a clammy, cool gray in color, in the center...covered in metal spikes.

But what caught his attention were the glowing, red, bloodshot eyes that glared out from behind the curtains.

The eyes of the Queen of Hearts.

**"Hello, Batman."**

"Your Majesty," was the guttural, snarled response. "Are you prepared to die?"

A dark chuckle echoed throughout the room.

**"Foolish little night-flyer. You think holding that silly toy and wearing that ridiculous costume makes you strong? You are weak. Pathetic. You fear your own shadow, thus you wear it on your skin. A coward!"**

Batman sneered.

"_I'm_ the coward? Your minions have all faced me. The Voracious Centipede met defeat. The Red King was placed into checkmate. The Mad Hatter's twisted innovations to your rule have been stopped. At least your pet, the Jabberwock, had the guts – if he had any real guts at all – to face me."

**"None of them would have faced you were it not for ME."**

"True. And where were you, Your Majesty? Here. Working from the sidelines."

A beastial growl resounded in the throne room.

**"You can't play mind games with me, Wayne. But perhaps you are right: it is high time you saw the face of your own personal Reaper..."**

At this, the crepe curtains parted...to reveal the hideous form of the Queen of Hearts, seated upon a golden throne, covered in blood-red rubies and black diamonds.

Batman nearly vomited.

Nothing he had seen before could rival the Queen's nightmarish appearance. On the Queen's face was a white porcelain mask, like those in Japanese theater, with only one feature painted on its face: a crooked, gaudy, red-lipped smile, far too innocent and childish looking to be a real representation of the Queen herself and her attitudes. She wore a black, wooden helmet, like that of a Viking, with the horns of both a ram and a longhorn steer attached, with a silver frame and a pink diamond in the shape of a heart on it upon her head. She also wore a starched collar, a silver necklace with a heart-shaped pendant, and a Tudor-like shirt, striped in purple and red with a black lace fringe.

The arms that stuck out of the sleeves were not arms at all, but bloodstained branches, covered in thorns, like the branches of rosebushes, devoid of roses. Where legs and, possibly, a dress should have been were ten, pink and red, squid-like tentacles, very much like those that filled the whole of Queensland, and each one of them wriggled and writhed as if it had a mind of its own.

All topped off with a pair of burning, hate-filled, bloodshot red eyes.

The Queen let out a deranged cackle at Batman's repulsed expression.

**"Don't I look just good enough to eat?"** she hissed.

"Disgusting."

**"Flattery will get you nowhere! Now, enough chatter! I've wanted to do this for a long, **_**long**_** time..."**

At this, the Queen rose slowly into the air, suspended by a giant pink tentacle that came out of her back through a hole in her throne. She raised her arms/branches into the air, her tentacles whipping about and spreading out as she ascended.

_**"OFF. WITH. YOUR. HEAD!"**_

Having said her favorite sentence, the Queen of Hearts let out another sick cackle of twisted glee and pointed her branches in Batman's direction. Two decks razor-edged playing cards materialized in the air at her shoulders, and shot out like shuriken, flipping into the air and then spinning towards Batman.

Batman moved left and right, dodging the cards as they flew at him. He aimed the Eyestaff...

In a move quicker than a lightning bolt, the Queen moved the other side of the room.

He tried again...same reaction.

The Queen laughed pompously, launching more cards.

_**"OffoffoffoffoffoffoffoffOFF! OFF!"**_

_Can't get a clear shot..._

_Until I can, nothing to do but go on the defensive._

_Time to go back to my own tricks._

Compacting the Eyestaff and placing it in a loop on his belt, Batman pulled out a pair of flash-bang capsules and tossed them at the Queen. The tentacle tyrant tried to bat them away, but this only caused them to explode in her face. The Queen let out a cry of anger, launching the remainder of the razor-cards in a batch. Batman easily sidestepped the cards, and made a run for the Queen...

Suddenly, her tentacles turned purple, and Batman found himself flying into the wall.

Alternately growling and giggling, the Queen continued to sway and almost seemed to dance, her purple appendages moving one way and then another, slamming Batman into the walls each time.

After six slams, the tentacles turned red and pink once more, and Batman fell roughly to the floor. He stood back up shakily, wiping some blood from his nose and lip. His cape was more ragged than usual, his uniform scratched in eight places.

**"You poor, stupid Bat!"** crowed the Queen. **"You were destined to be defeated! Only the truly demented can survive in Wonderland. Do you want to know what REALLY caused this place to be what it is?"**

"The Caterpillar said it was the subconscious of Jervis Tetch," Batman said, and flung a bat-o-rang at the Queen. She spun in a half circle, grabbing it in one muscular tentacle before throwing it onto the floor.

**"Only half-right!" **the Queen screeched. **"Tetch's insanity twisted our world...but do you know how much blame lies on your shoulders?"**

Batman stopped, hand right over a smoke pellet.

"What...?"

**"So you don't know," **the Queen almost seemed to purr, settling down somewhat, still suspended in the air. **"Well, let's put it this way: Tetch's mind isn't the only mind here, now, is it?"**

Batman stared.

Caterpillar's words flooded back.

_"When you answered Rabbit's call, you began to rebuild...your task, and your pain, are not over." He said that..._

_My task and my pain are not over..._

_This isn't all Tetch's doing...it's MY subconscious as well..._

**"From that pitifully blank expression on your face, I'd guess you're beginning to get the joke, hm?" **the Queen laughed cruelly. **"Get it, Batman? You and Tetch are BOTH the source of my corruption, and with my corruption came the corruption of MY realm! Your guilt, your fear, your misery, your own form of madness...I am all these things! I come alive whenever you go out on your little night flights!"**

Batman shook his head slightly, the words beginning to sink in.

_That's why I'm the one who has to stop the Queen._

_Because Tetch couldn't...not properly anyways: the Hatter here was a representation of the Hatter in my world._

_And that's why, when he put whatever he put on me, I ended up here._

_That's why I can have dreams in this dreamland._

_It all makes sense..._

_I guess..._

The Queen suddenly shrieked, diving forward, branches now wrapped around a double-bladed axe.

Batman quickly dodged as the Queen swung the axe.

The blade was stuck in the floor. Grunting and snarling, the Queen of Hearts tried to remove the axe.

Mind still reeling, the Dark Knight barley processed the exposed tentacle that she was attached to. As quickly as he could, fingers fumbling only slightly, he grabbed the Eyestaff, extending it.

The Queen pulled the axe-up and with a short, fearsome groan, rose up, the blade held above her head...

Batman fired at the tentacle that held her up.

A hole burned right through the sticky, slimy skin and muscle. The Queen let out a cry of pure anguish, dropping the axe to the ground and flying into the air, the tentacle whipping her about fiercely, almost like a dog with a bird in its mouth. Her tentacles briefly sputtered purple, knocking Batman down into the floor, head first. He let out a short yelp as the pain registered.

His vision fuzzy, he watched as the Queen was brought higher and higher into the air, snapping about, her screams growing fainter and fainter...

Then she slammed into the floor.

Her mask shattered, revealing...

Nothing but a pair of glowing red eyes, which rolled onto the ground.

Slowly, the Queen's limp form was pulled into the hole in the throne, into a dark pit...

And all was still.

Batman stared blankly, as if waiting...

_The Nightmare is over..._

_That was easy..._

_Much, much too easy..._

_If the Queen has been destroyed, then why am I not..._

His thoughts were interrupted as the throne suddenly blew apart. He ducked to avoid being sliced into slithers by the cut diamonds and rubies and gold shrapnel.

When he looked up, he saw something even more frightening as the Queen's tentacled form.

It was a chalk white face, with a mad, red-lipped grin that reached almost from ear-to-ear and had filed yellow teeth. Its dreadlocked green hair hung down like great coils of wet straw, and its turquoise eyes were filled with lunacy and madness.

It was twice as deformed as the one where he came from, but the figure's identity was clear.

"...Joker?"

The Pseudo-Joker smirked, let out a brief, dark giggle, and opened its mouth...

Batman did a disturbed double-take. Out of the Joker's mouth popped the head of a hatless Jervis Tetch. The Mad Hatter's eyes glittered fiercely, and he opened his own mouth...

Another face, this one shrouded in a mask of burlap. Behind the burlap sack was visible a beaky nose and a small, flat-topped head. Its mouth area was stitched up, and glassy green eyes shone behind the mask, half hidden by shredded burlap.

Scarecrow.

And the worst was yet to come: Scarecrow actually winked one eye, and slowly, the mask began to split at the stitches over his mask's mouth-area, the fear-mongering villain's mouth opening wider and wider...

The head that came out next was the most dreadful one of all. Batman's eyes went wide behind his cowl. He almost gasped.

_It's...me._

Handsome, fair, gentle...everything the papers said he looked like. And completely dead in appearance, somewhat bloated, its dark eyes blank and glazed. A soft, eerie smile crept over the dead face, revealing decaying teeth and gums.

Then, from the Dead-Bruce's mouth, came the voice of the first and largest presence: Joker. But the Joker's voice was rocky, gravelly, and somewhat modulated, much like the Queen's voice had been.

**"I AM THE KNAVE OF HEARTS. WELCOME TO DREAMLAND, BATSY."**


	36. Chapter 36

Notes: Welcome, knaves and vagabonds, fruitcakes and nuts, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen, to the smashing climax, and our seventh and final Battle Chapter! Who will triumph? Who will fall? Why am I using such a cheesy, dramatic tone? Aw, heck with it... Anyway, for those who want to know, Batman's appearance at the end of this chapter was inspired by the Ragebox power-ups from the McGee game.

**Chapter XXXVI: Finale**

Batman stared in a mixture of confusion, shock, and dumbstruck horror at the many faces of the Knave of Hearts. The mouth of the Dead-Bruce head opened up as the Knave let out a loud, cruel, maniacal cackle of laughter...so much like Joker's laugh, yet so unlike it.

As the laughter continued, the Heart Palace began to collapse around the creature, the Knave's laughter growing louder and louder Batman dodged left and right to avoid the falling stones, bricks, and bits of splintering wood as the Knave rose higher and higher, moving farther and farther away, vanishing into the darkened skies...

Suddenly, the area of stone Batman stood upon began to rise as well, up out of the ground, like a great pillar. Eight more pillars rose in a circle around the Knave, at varying heights, all the same width apart from each other.

Batman gazed up at the full form of the Knave of Hearts. The titan stood high in the air, wearing nothing but a tattered, sleeveless, bloodstained, plum-colored tunic with a leather belt, its buckle shaped like a silver heart surrounded by gold flames. The tunic had a long, vertical slash running down its front, from its chest to just above its belt, revealing chalky white, muscular skin. The creature wore a strange sort of headdress, like an overturned crescent lined in spikes that spouted founts of blood into the air.

The Knave had four white arms, two at its shoulders and two that stuck out from its tattered tunic right above the waist. Its upper left arm and lower right arm were both human in appearance, but had green spikes on the elbows and were tipped in long green claws. The lower one of these hands held a jeweled scepter, topped with a brassy skull wearing a jester's cap. The other held an immense blade, like a supersized machete. Its lower left arm and upper right arm had no hands at all, nor any spikes, and looked considerably bonier and more shriveled in comparison to the other two arms. The lower arm ended in a cannon, like that of an Automaton guard, but purple in color, decorated in olive-toned Suit symbols. The upper arm, meanwhile, had a large white crab claw in placement of a hand.

For a while, all Batman could do was stare.

**"IMPRESSIVE, AM I NOT?"**

The Knave cackled dementedly.

"...The Queen...?"

**"MY PUPPET, YOU MEAN. I'VE ALWAYS LOVED PUPPETS! EVER SEEN A PUNCH AND JUDY SHOW, BATTY-MAN?"**

As the Knave said this, he swung his scepter at Batman, who quickly jumped down to a pillar, lower than the one he stood on, directly to his left.

"Then...YOU are the cause of all this?"

**"**_**MOI?**_** NO. DIDN'T YOU LISTEN? ALL THIS IS THE MESHED AND MELDED MIXTURE OF YOUR PAIN AND TETCH'S MADNESS. AND I? I AM THE KING! KING! **_**KING!**_**"**

Here the Knave struck out again with its scepter. Batman ducked, and the scepter smashed the pillar to his right almost in half.

**"I RULE WONDERLAND ALONE. YOUR EXISTENCE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED! THIS REALM IS FOR THE MAD: RAW, RUTHLESS, CAREENING OFF OF THE JAGGED EDGES OF MISERABLE REALITY. SELF-PITYING, HEROIC DREAMERS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE...THEY CANNOT **_**SURVIVE**_** HERE."**

This time, the Knave chose to use its machete, slicing the pillar almost three quarters of the way down in two with one vertical slice.

Batman edged back, holding the Jabberwock's Eyestaff in one hand tightly...so tightly, his palms sweat inside his gloves.

"But _I_ have. I defeated your guardian, your scientist, your Chessmen, and your insectoid overlord. And I intend to defeat you."

Knowing it most likely wouldn't do much good, he reached for a bat-o-rang – his last bat-o-rang – and tossed it upwards.

The Knave grabbed the bat-o-rang in his crab claw, crushing it in an instant.

**"A MINOR DETAIL. SORT OF LIKE THE FACT THAT YOUR HEART STILL BEATS, HM?"**

The Knave aimed its cannon. What appeared to be a skull, surrounded by purple flames shot out. Batman aimed the Eyestaff and fired it at the oncoming projectile, shattering it and sending bits of charred "bone" everywhere.

"A minor detail that holds the Jabberwock's Eyestaff."

**"YOU STUPID LITTLE FLY BOY! THAT PITIFUL TRINKET ALONE DOES NOT HAVE THE POWER TO DESTROY ME, ANYMORE THAN YOU DO! YOU FEAR THE TRUTH. YOU LIVE IN SHADOWS. YOU RUN FROM THE PAST."**

The Knave fired its cannon again and again. Batman jumped to the next pillar, and then the next after that. As he touched down on the third, he flung an explosive capsule at the Knave of Hearts.

The monster didn't even flinch.

But it did laugh.

A lot.

**"WAS **_**THAT **_**SUPPOSED TO HURT LIL' OL' ME?"**

The Knave cackled and stabbed machete into the pillar. The stone step crumbled, and Batman barely managed to jump to the next, catching its edge. He heaved himself up, narrowly missing the Knave's scepter as it tried to knock him down.

He aimed the Eyestaff at the monster's chest, and fired.

And fired.

And...fired...?

Nothing.

Nothing but the Knave's laughter.

**"HA! STOP! STOP IT! ****THAT TICKLES! HA HA HA HA!"**

_...No..._

_ Not after all I've been through..._

The Knave of Hearts let out a deep, wolf-like snarl, and lunged with its blade. Batman jumped away, down onto the next pillar, just in time to avoid its edge...

Almost, anyway, as the gigantic machete cut at his cape, sending scorched and shredded cloth fluttering down, back to the ground fifty feet below him.

"Why won't it work...?"

**"GIVE UP!"** the Knave of Hearts bellowed, pointing dramatically with his scepter. **"YOUR PATHETIC ATTEMPTS TO DESTROY ME AND SAVE THOSE YOU CARE FOR MOST HAVE FAILED. RETREAT INTO THE STERILE SAFETY OF YOUR SELF-DELUSIONS...OR FACE INEVITABLE ANNIHILATION. FOR IF YOU DESTROY ME...YOU DESTROY YOURSELF!"**

Batman glared up, silent. The gruesome smiles of the Knave's four heads mocked him.

**"THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE, BAT-BOY: SURRENDER, AND SOME HOLLOW PART OF YOU, AT LEAST, JUST MIGHT REMAIN. REFUSE, AND I WILL BREAK. YOU. DOWN. **_**YOU WILL LOSE YOURSELF **__**FOREVER!**_**"**

From somewhere, deep inside of Batman's chest, came a small, biting grub of doubt and uncertainty...a grub that had been teased constantly throughout his journey.

But it was shadowed by thoughts of the White Rabbit.

It was shadowed by thoughts of the Gryphon.

It was shadowed by thoughts of the Mad Hatter.

It was shadowed by thoughts of the March Hare and the Dormouse.

It was shadowed by thoughts of the Gnomes.

It was shadowed by thoughts of the Cheshire Cat.

Most of all, it was shadowed by thoughts of his parents, and of Jason.

And of Tim.

_"Never."_

The Knave's eyes widened. All four heads frowned, confused. He lowered his scepter.

**"...COME AGAIN?"**

"Never. I will never surrender...and I will NOT allow this nightmare to continue."

With these words, he fired the Eyestaff again, aiming at the hand that held the scepter.

The Knave let out a yelp of pain, the superheated light finally inflicting a large, searing burn across its skin. It then roared, and grabbed onto Batman with its crab claw, hissing like a python as the tight, crusty grip squeezed its prey tightly, pinning the Dark Knight's arms, and, thus, the Eyestaff, down.

**"THEN **_**DIE."**_

__The Knave of Hearts raised Batman up, leveling him with the slash in his tunic.

The Knave's torso opened up, revealing a gaping, red maw, lined with shark-like teeth in at least five rows...

And tossed Batman in. The maw closed.

There was silence for a while.

The Knave burped.

**"HM. COULD HAVE USED SAUCE-"**

_BANG!_

The Knave of Hearts let out a horrid scream, a hole blasting open in its torso.

Out of the hole came Batman...

But it was not the same one that had gone in.

This Batman had no cape, but great, black wings with a red membrane. He had fangs, and fiery red eyes. Claws could be seen in his gloves, and the Eyestaff he held now had a scythe-shaped blade attached to it, and the staff itself was studded with rubies. His whole form seemed to be surrounded by a red mist, and the bat-insignia on his chest was now surrounded by a red oval rather than a yellow one.

Batman glowered at the Knave of Hearts.

The monster glared back, seemingly unaffected by his opponent's new form and the wound in his chest.

**"OW."**

The Knave lashed out with his pincer. With infinite Grace, the Dark Knight avoided the attack, and fired a blast at the right eye of the Knave's Scarecrow-Head. The Knave growled in anger and pain, the eye melting into a blackened, charred pool.

_**"I'LL KILL YOU!"**_

__"I don't think so."

The Knave fired its cannon. The Eyestaff shattered the skull, and the beam kept on going, straight at the Knave's blood-spitting headdress, which was blown into shrapnel.

The Knave shrieked in fury, raising his blade over his head. Batman raised the Eyestaff over his, the scythe-like edge glinting off the dim Wonderland sunlight, and flew at his enemy.

"NOW..."

**"OFF..."**

"WITH..."

**"YOUR..."**

The Knave of Hearts and the Dark Knight finished at the same time: _**"HEAD!"**_

__A hideous scream.

A flash of light.

Then came a sense of being lifted...

up, Up, UP...


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter XXXVII: When I Wake Up...**

Batman's eyes jerked open. He felt himself being carried by a pair of large, strong men.

And he felt a hat on his head, placed over his cowl.

_Home at last..._

_ It was all just a nightmare after all..._

_ Wasn't it?_

"Oy!" came the fake cockney accent of Dumfree Tweed (Tweedledum). "I thinks 'e's awake!"

"Impossible."

_Tetch..._

_ I swear, Tetch, I'll..._

"As impossible as a talking cat?"

The Hatter jerked around. The Tweeds looked surprised, as did the March Hare, who held Tim Drake in his arms, a knife at his throat.

But the Mad Hatter didn't look surprised at all.

He looked horrified.

"No..._no, it cannot be...!"_

Batman stood quickly, wrenching the arms of Tweedledee and Tweedledum, and throwing the fat henchmen to the ground. Tetch seemed to recover from his surprise and took Tim Drake from the Hare.

"SIC HIM, SIC HIM, SIC HIM!"

The March Hare lunged, his knife flashing in the moonlight...they were in an alley. Batman dodged to the side as the Hare lashed out wildly.

"OfF wItH hIs HeAd!" bellowed the Mad Hatter.

The March Hare tripped, and, with a single, fast kick to the face, Batman sent him sprawling, out cold, to the ground faster than you could say "executioner."

Then he knocked the Hatter down with a single punch, dropping the hat on his head to the ground.

Tetch shivered, terrified, wiping blood from his lip, fumbling with his own hat, his sand-colored hair falling into his eyes.

"It's…it's not possible! None of the f-f-former test subjects were able to break the bonds of my dr-dream hat…!"

Another punch, and the Mad Hatter fell unconscious, his top hat falling rolling out of his reach. With a snarl, Batman reared back for another...

"Bruce!"

He stopped and relaxed slowly.

Very, very slowly.

"Robin..."

"You all right?"

"I...I am fine."

Tim eyed Batman doubtfully. He looked at the hat, flung onto the ground and picked it up, taking the 10/6 card out of the band and examining it.

"This isn't like Tetch's other chips...I can tell. What is it?"

Batman took the hat and looked at it.

From somewhere in the back of his mind, an old chant played...

_Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle..._

"It's a broken mirror, Robin. That's all. I'll call Commissioner Gordon."

Without another word, Batman turned and began to walk off, taking the communicator from his belt...fully stocked.

As he finished the call, he heard the Mad Hatter semi-consciously muttering to himself...

He easily made out the words.

_"'...Oh DeAr, Oh DeAr! I sHaLl Be ToO lAtE...'" _


	38. Chapter 38

**Epilogue: Another World Awaits...**

DING-DONG.

The ringing of the doorbell of Wayne Manor alerted Alfred Pennyworth: respectable butler, former military doctor, oldest friend and mentor of Bruce Wayne, and one of the few people to know the true identity of Batman. It had been almost four hours since the arrest of the Mad Hatter and the Wonderland Gang, and his "master" had yet to leave the Batcave since he had come back home. The tall, lean, moustached man looked up sharply from the sink, where he'd been taking care of the dishes.

Another ring sounded. Alfred glanced up at the clock on the wall.

_It's three o'clock in the morning! Who could be at the door?_

Another knock. With a soft sigh, Alfred dried his hands and headed for the door.

_Ms. Gordon, I'm sure...or, perhaps, Master Tim...well, not likely Master Tim, not after tonight's caper...Master Dick, maybe...?_

Alfred opened the door.

A man, the same height as he was, and of similar build, stood before him on the porch. He wore a light gray trenchcoat and a matching fedora, pulled down to keep the drizzling rain out of his face. His hands were gloved, and he wore gray trousers and black shoes. He had a thin, almost penciled-on moustache and a short nose. His eyes were hidden by his collar and hat.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Maybe yes...maybe no," said the stranger in a silky, husky voice. "Am I in the presence of Alfred Pennyworth, butler of Bruce Wayne?"

"You are."

"Delightful. Is Mr. Wayne at home?"

"He is."

"In that case, may I see him?"

"No, sir, I'm afraid not. Mr. Wayne is preoccupied at the moment."

"Ah. Going over the night's strange events in his fabulous Batcave, I presume?"

A tense pause. The stranger smiled at the stunned look on the butler's face.

"You know..."

"I know all too well, and a great deal more. Fear not: Bruce's secret is safe with me."

"...Who are you?"

"A friend who should not be a friend at all."

"Beg pardon?"

"Never mind, man. I'm here for only one reason, and one reason only."

"What's that then?" Alfred said, preparing to shut the door and run to the kitchen for a knife, if necessary.

"I have a message for Batsy. Please, give him _this..."_

He handed Alfred a small box.

"And tell him to open it, and inspect its contents. Also give him this..."

Another box, slightly wider and longer than the first, but flatter in depth.

"And instruct him to open it only after inspecting the contents of the first package."

"What name am I to give?"

"That is not important. My name is contained in the first package...and don't open it, Pennyworth," the man added, his voice suddenly an inhuman growl. "Trust me, I'll know. What is contained in these boxes is for Batman, and Bruce Wayne, alone...unless he – or they, as the case seems to be – decides to show you, for whatever reason. Otherwise..."

The man trailed off, his smile becoming ever more terrifying.

"Very well," Alfred said, trying very hard – and succeeding – at keeping his composure. "If that is all..."

"It is. Goodnight, sir."

The man turned to leave. He took a step, and then turned back.

Alfred glimpsed a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

"Actually, there is one last thing..."

"What?"

"Well...they say that haste makes waste, and thus I rarely hurry. However, if a mouse were about to dart up my trousers..."

Alarmed, the butler looked down.

When he looked back up, the yellow-eyed man in the coat was gone.

Alfred shook his head, confused, and went down to the Batcave, tucking a small butter knife in his pockets, just in case, beforehand.

In the bowels of the Batcave, seated at the enormous supercomputer known as the Batcomputer, Bruce Wayne sat, cape and cowl removed but still wearing his tights, utility belt, boots, and gloves, staring at a small photograph in a wooden frame.

A small boy and his parents, all dressed in their Sunday best, riding the Mad Teacups ride at Walt Disney World, were visible in the picture.

Alfred approached.

"Master Bruce?"

Bruce looked up, somewhat startled.

"Hm? Oh, yes, Alfred?"

"A man came by, and asked that I give these to you."

He handed Bruce the boxes.

"He asked me to tell you, too, that you are not to open the flatter and wider of these boxes until after you inspected the contents of the smaller and deeper box."

Bruce nodded and placed the boxes beside him.

"Thank you, Alfred," he said, a small, ironic, wry smirk on his face.

Then he stopped moving when he saw the expression on Alfred's face.

"What is it?"

"He knew who you were, sir."

"Alfred, a lot of people..."

He stopped again.

"Oh..."

He hurriedly pounced on the boxes.

"I'll head back upstairs, sir."

"Yes, Alfred. Keep your eyes open."

Alfred shuddered.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know anyone with yellow eyes?"

"...I don't think so."

"Well..._he_ had yellow eyes."

A pause.

"Goodnight, Master Bruce."

"Goodnight, Alfred."

Bruce paused as Alfred left, the information of the eyes beginning to play on his uncertainty.

Finally, slowly, he opened the first box...

In it was a copy of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass_ by Lewis Carroll. Batman stared at the cover for a long while: the Mad Hatter, dressed in a blue suit and polka-dotted bow tie, his hat shiny and black, danced on top of the tea table. Meanwhile, the White Rabbit and Alice took their tea, watching him in amusement. The background depicted a forest of pink mushrooms and green grass. A small piece of paper was seen, sticking out between pages 66 and 67 of the first book...the scene where Alice encountered the Cheshire Cat.

He pulled the piece of paper out. It was folded into eighths, and on it was written, "To Batman."

He unfolded the paper, and read the letter inside. His eyes grew wider and wider with every word...

_**Dear Bruce,**_

_** This is, first, to inform you that my smile is now much more genuine. All is as it should be: the Gnomes are free and few, the Jabberwock and his owner are no more, the Hatter, March Hare, and Dormouse are having their endless tea party, as they ought, and Rabbit has returned, and is still having punctuality problems. And Alice? Alice is back, whole, alive, safe, and sound, and Hatter has never been a more Frabjous fellow. Unfortunately, none of us will ever be able to forget the atrocities that have befallen our once celestial realm; Tetch and the Knave have left quite a mark.**_

_** This brings me to my second, and primary, purpose for this note. You may recall the hypothesis Caterpillar told you about? It is, in fact, a sort of unknown LAW. When Charles Dodgson (Mr. Lewis Carroll to you and me) created Wonderland, he had no idea what an effect it would have on your world and its people. When he died, our world fell under the control of Alice Liddell, the inspiration for the story. Since that time, our world has fallen under the control of many, many people, a few of which you just might have heard of: Walt Disney, for example, and Frank Beddor...and Jervis Tetch. Under Tetch's unconscious control, we fell into complete and total disarray. I will not hesitate to tell you, in fact, that all you saw was the tip of the incomprehensible iceberg of horrors we experienced in that purgatory of blood, wheels, and smoke.**_

_** With the death of the Knave of Hearts, you have freed us from Tetch's control...I don't know quite how, but you have, and all is well. But Wonderland must always have a controller...and we have chosen one.**_

_** You.**_

_** You are in charge of our world now, Bruce Wayne. We are eternally grateful to you, and forever in your debt. And, for the record, you will always hold a special place inside of me. Namely, my heart...and if, for whatever reason, things ever get that bad again, possibly my stomach.**_

_** I remain, Batsy, yours,**_

_** Cheshire C., esq.**_

Batman dropped the letter to the ground.

_It wasn't a dream at all..._

Slowly, his eyes travelled to the second box. On it was a piece of paper reading, _**In case you need us, or visa-versa. W. Rabbit**_.

He grabbed it, almost eagerly, and opened it up, finding himself strangely afraid of what he would find...

Inside was a handheld looking-glass.


End file.
